31. The Uncertain Path of a Dance/Movement Therapist

Mind Your Body

31. The Uncertain Path of a Dance/Movement Therapist

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When I decided to become a dance therapist, I was filled with so much excitement. I was so certain I was destined for this path that I didn’t even think about the  challenges ahead.

I had a sense that being a psychotherapist was “hard.” In 2009, 1 year before I started my dance/movement therapy (DMT) training, I randomly met a woman in the Bahamas. She told me she was a therapist but she changed paths. “It was too intense for me. I couldn’t handle it anymore,” she said. I specifically remember thinking, “oh I was made for this, that won’t be me.”

I don’t think I’m invincible and I absolutely haven’t been through this journey. I just thought everything would work out with ease and flow. I was wrong.

My path to becoming a dance therapist has been extremely challenging and transformative in many ways. Within the first few months of my DMT training, everything from my past caught up to me. The flood gates officially opened. I had frequent crying spells and I couldn’t avoid it anymore: it was time to see a therapist.

I was getting by “just fine” before. I had ups and downs and I was moody, but who isn’t?  At least that’s what I’d told myself.

Yeah, I was getting by. That was it. I was doing good enough but any disappointment easily brought me down. Way down. And hey, when you’re 20-something living in New York City, single, with unstable friendships, it doesn’t take much to feel defeated.

Going through the process of becoming a DMT made me question everything I knew about myself. I was shocked by the information I discovered through my body and movement. For instance, I had myself convinced that I was assertive and direct, but when it came to leading my DMT sessions, I had a really hard time setting firm boundaries. I would feel a rush of anxiety that turned into sweat and tension so intense that I couldn’t use my voice. I lost my power to speak.

My training pushed me way out of my comfort zone, but it also helped me grow into a person I love and accept much more today. It took me at least 5 more years to become truly comfortable with setting limits as a therapist.  I had to gain confidence in myself. I needed to feel secure enough not to take it personally whenever someone pushed back.

I’d be lying if I said that I became settled in my therapist role after I conquered those early challenges.

In my young stages, I constantly struggled with my identity as a therapist. I learned from so many different people with varying approaches. I questioned, what was the “right” thing to do? What if I do the “wrong” thing and everyone thinks I’m a horrible therapist?

It took years of practice to realize that the right approach for me was just a matter of trusting what felt right in my body. Now, I feel confident in my therapeutic framework and ability to adapt to a large variety of populations & settings. If someone disagrees with my approach, I have an open discussion sharing different perspectives, but I stay firm with my particular values as a therapist.

When I became the Director of Creative Arts Therapies at a psychiatric hospital, I struggled again with my identity. They called me a manager. A leader. My DMT title didn’t seem as important to the others, but it prompted me to embrace that title even more. When I meet new people who ask me what I do, I say, “I’m a dance/movement therapist” and my husband often says, “she also runs a department for all the creative therapies in a psychiatric hospital!” Oh yeah, that too.

I have gone through serious hardships as a director, including an intense case of Imposter Syndrome. I deeply feared that people would find out how much I wasn’t qualified for the position. But I’ve come to accept myself for not being an expert. If I don’t know the answer to something, I simply say, “I don’t know, but I will happily look that up for you.” Now, I feel very settled and confident in my director role, and I’m ready to do more.

I find myself seeking more every few years.

I wonder if that’s just my tendency to spread my wings & fly, or if this happens with many other therapists & healers. Part of me is frustrated that just being a DMT isn’t enough. A much bigger part of me gets excited about new challenges and revitalizing my work.

I would say I’m ready for private practice, but I don’t think that’s what I want. In fact, I want the opposite of private. I want my work as a dance therapist to be open and available to anyone who wants it. I want to have a much wider reach than I ever could just working locally. I want to impact people around the world.

I want to impact YOU! We probably live far away from each other, but because you’re reading this blog post, there’s a chance I’m affecting you in some way. That possibility makes my soul happy.

My biggest challenges right now are lacking confidence and fearing judgment.

Doing this podcast, writing this blog post, offering my online courses, starting an online community…

It’s the same struggle I had in the previous two phases of my career as a DMT. It’s funny how you think you’re settled and grounded in an area of your life, but that ground breaks so easily as soon you leave your comfort zone again. Just like when I started my DMT training.

I guess I’m sharing all of this because I know that many of you are in different stages of your DMT/movement-healer career. I wanted to give an honest account of how windy this road can be. I also wonder if anyone can relate to my experiences. If you can, I’m here to say that you’re not alone.

I reflect on my path as a dance/movement therapist with such warmth and pride. Every turn and caution sign on this road has led me to a fuller, happier life. If you’re feeling challenged right now, just like me, it’s because we had the courage to step outside of our comfort zone.

Let us continue supporting each other, finding common threads among us, and come join my online community of dance therapists, body-centered healers, and movement-inspired individuals!

I hope to see you there