How Salsa Taught Me About Motivation & Perfectionism

“Perfectionism is the most paralyzing form of self-abuse.” 

I came across this quote recently, and it really resonated. 

I started salsa dancing about a year ago when I began dating my lovely boyfriend who is salsa culture personified. 

At first, I was just in it for fun and it actually became a kind of meditation for me. 

For two or three hours a week, I would get so wrapped up in what I was doing with my feet that work stress and any other problems would easily slip away.

But as I started to improve (and was no longer overly preoccupied with the feet thing), my expectations for myself rose faster than the results.

Dancing – which is supposed to be light and fun – became stressful. 

Going out with a bunch of people who had been salsa dancing since birth constantly highlighted where I was falling short. 

My hips didn’t move that fluidly and I never knew what to do with my hands. I got dizzy going into turns and constantly missed leaders’ cues.

Stepping back, I recognize now that I had – and still very much have – a gap between where I wanted to be and where I was (cheers to Johnny Waite for helping me sort this one out).

The problem wasn’t the gap itself – we all have gaps over a million things, whether it’s related to work, fitness, friendships, or skills. 

The problem was that I turned that gap into a reason to beat myself up and lose confidence.

But here’s the thing: by nature, gaps are healthy. 

They push us to become better, smarter, more well-rounded people – if we marry effort and patience in the process. 

Without effort and patience, however, they can lead to discouragement, lower self-esteem, and unnecessary added pressure.

Cue my much-needed mindset shift. 

Now, unsurprisingly, I still don’t dance like I’ve been doing it for 20 years. 

But that’s no longer my goal.

What is? Focusing on consistently showing up (putting in the effort) and having fun (being patient with myself).

One day, I’ll be proud of how I move on the dance floor and be glad that I didn’t let the dark side of the gap take away something so beautiful.