Why Therapists Love to Dance (Yes, Even the Introverted Ones Like Me)

Let’s be honest: if you walk into a therapist’s office after hours and it smells like eucalyptus and you hear Beyoncé faintly in the distance…

We’re probably dancing.

So why do so many therapists love to dance? Is it just because we’re emotionally attuned, somatically aware, overachieving feelers?

Well, yes. But also — it’s science, baby.

Dancing Regulates the Nervous System

You know how we talk about “getting back into your body” after a stress response?

This is that.

Dancing helps shift you out of survival states (fight, flight, freeze, fawn) and into connection. It’s rhythmic, it’s expressive, and it literally helps your nervous system remember:

“Oh, right. I’m not just a brain spiraling in a meat suit.”

Bonus: it activates your ventral vagal state — aka the “I feel safe and socially connected” part of the parasympathetic nervous system. Add in some Whitney Houston, Celine or Taylor and you’ve got a neurobiological party.

It Bypasses the Inner Critic

Talk therapy is beautiful. But sometimes, you need to shut your brain up and just let your hips take over.

Dancing makes space for joy, silliness, anger, sensuality — all the things shame tries to repress. You don’t need a 10-step cognitive restructuring worksheet — you sometimes just need some Eve on full blast and a good stomp.

It’s the Safest Way to Rage and Cry at the Same Time

Therapists hold a lot. YOUR stuff. OUR stuff. Society’s stuff.

Sometimes we need a release that doesn’t require words.

So if you’ve ever danced to Taylor Swift while quietly sobbing and shaking your arms out like a trauma-informed octopus — congratulations, you’ve achieved full catharsis.

 

It Helps Us Practice What We Preach

We ask our clients to:

• Tune into their body

• Express their feelings

• Regulate through movement

• Find play, joy, and freedom

You better believe we’re doing it too. (Even if we look like caffeinated toddlers doing so.)

It Reminds Us We’re Alive

Healing is heavy. Dancing reminds us that aliveness can feel good — not just hard.

When we move with music, we’re not solving a problem. We’re being with ourselves. Playfully. Imperfectly. Embodied.

And in a world that often tells us to disconnect, that’s a radical act.

So yes, many therapists love to dance.

It’s not just cute.

It’s not just quirky.

It’s nervous system hygiene.

It’s self-regulation.

It’s rebellion against burnout culture.

It’s our way back to joy.

So if you’re a therapist or a therapy-goer, and dancing has been calling your name lately?

Put on that song. Close the door. Move like nobody’s watching you.

You might just release something.