I Grew Up a Dancer. Here's What It Taught Me About Trauma Long Before I Became a Therapist.

By Jenna Barnes, LMFT | Virtual Trauma & EMDR Therapist in California

Five, six, seven, eight.

If you've ever danced, your shoulders just did something. Maybe your foot tapped. Maybe you felt a tiny spike of dread about forgetting the second half of the routine.

I started dancing when I was three years old and didn't stop until I was twenty-three. I did everything except tap. (No shade to tap dancers. Your shoes just sound like a threat.) I went competitive in 8th grade and stayed that way through high school graduation, so my teenage years ran on rehearsal schedules. Then I danced my way into community college, where I picked up a little scholarship for it. These days it's mostly hip hop.

Now I'm a trauma therapist, and I keep having the same déjà vu in session. A client tells me they never rest. They smile through everything. They can walk into a room and know within four seconds who's annoyed at them. And I think: oh, I know this one.

I learned it in a room with mirrors on three walls.

First, Let Me Be Fair to Dance

Dance got me through my childhood. I mean that. The studio was a place where the rules made sense, where effort turned into something you could see, and where my body was the thing I got to be proud of.

So this isn't a "dance ruined me" post. It's more that the same things that made the studio feel safe also made it a really good place to hide. Both are true, and that's most of what I do for a living: help people hold two true things at once.

1. The Mirror Never Turns Off

Dancers spend thousands of hours watching themselves being watched. Every angle gets checked, every flaw noted, every correction absorbed. It builds real skill. It also builds a very efficient inner monitor that keeps scanning long after class ends.

Now picture a kid who already knows how to read a room to stay safe. Drop her in a studio and she'll thrive. She'll get praised for her focus, her discipline, her "maturity."

What looks like discipline can be hypervigilance in a very nice leotard.

2. Pain Is Information (Which You've Been Trained to Ignore)

Every dancer has danced on something they shouldn't have. It's practically a rite of passage. You learn to smile with a sore body because the audience can't see it, so it doesn't count. Your body says ow and you say not now.

Do that for enough years and something goes quiet. Not healed, just muted.

My clients do this in cubicles. They skip lunch, sleep four hours, ignore the migraine, and answer the email. When I ask what their body is telling them, they look at me like I asked what their appendix thinks about the quarterly report.

When you're trained to override your body's signals, you get very good at functioning and very bad at noticing when you're on empty. Your nervous system keeps sending the memo. You keep marking it "read later."

3. Praise for the Thing That's Costing You

Somewhere in there, a community college handed me a scholarship for being disciplined and dedicated. I'm grateful for it. It's also a perfect example of something I see all the time: you get rewarded for the exact trait that's quietly wearing you down.

Plenty of kids walk into the studio already fluent in earning approval. You figure out which behaviors get you warmth, and you do more of those. If warmth at home is unpredictable, that skill is survival. In the studio, it's called being coachable.

Then you grow up, and your boss loves it. Your partner relies on it. Everyone loves the person who never needs anything, right up until that person is on the bathroom floor at 9 PM wondering why she can't feel her own feelings.

4. The Body Remembers (Yes, Even the Routine From a Decade Ago)

Play a song you once danced to. Your body knows the choreography before your brain finishes the thought. That's procedural memory: your body storing what it learned so you don't have to think about it.

Trauma works in a similar way. Your body learns patterns of threat and files them below the level of words. So when your boss sends a formal email at 8:00 AM, your body reacts like it's an emergency, and the logical, grown-up part of you isn't even consulted.

This is why I can't talk anyone out of it, and why you probably can't talk yourself out of it either. You can't reason your way out of muscle memory. Insight is great, but it isn't healing.

I'm also biased toward movement, obviously. Rhythm, breath, and a body that can feel joy are a big part of why I trust it as a way back into the nervous system. (I wrote about a cousin of this idea in Why "Just Go for a Swim" Is Actually Solid Trauma Advice.) But moving can help you regulate, and it can't clear what your body has been holding for decades. That takes processing.

Signs Your Body Is Still Performing

• You can't rest without earning it first. Even naps come with a to-do list.

• You ignore your body until it files a formal complaint. A migraine, a back spasm, a mysterious eye twitch.

• Compliments feel like a new standard to maintain. "Great job!" translates to "Do that again, forever."

• You feel like you're on stage, even at home. The audience is imaginary, but the lights are real.

• You know who's upset with you before anyone says a word.

  If you nodded at more than two, hi. Welcome. Bring water.

  Where EMDR Comes In

  Attachment-informed EMDR works with the stored patterns underneath all of this: the body's old survival rules, the "I'm only safe if I'm perfect" beliefs, the flinch you can't logic your way out of. It also doesn't require you to narrate every painful detail, which is a relief if you've spent years being the articulate one who can explain everything and still feel the same.

  If you're a high-achieving cycle breaker navigating a relationship with emotionally immature family (cutting off, keeping distance, or holding boundaries), I'd love to help. I offer EMDR entirely via secure telehealth for clients throughout California. I'm based in Orange County, but you don't have to be.

  I offer structured 6-Session and 10-Session EMDR Bundles for steady, lasting momentum. Insurance slots are limited, and sliding scale spots are limited too, so visit my Fees & FAQs page for current openings, or book a free 15-minute consultation to see if we're a fit.

  The mirror can come down. You don't have to stop dancing. You just get to stop performing.

FAQs

• Can childhood trauma cause perfectionism?

  For some people, yes. When approval felt conditional or unpredictable, perfectionism can develop as a way to stay safe. Not everyone with perfectionist tendencies has a trauma history, and a trauma-informed therapist can help you sort out what's driving yours.

• Can EMDR help with perfectionism and people-pleasing?

  EMDR can target the memories and beliefs (like "I'm only safe if I'm perfect") that fuel these patterns. Individual results vary, and your therapist will tailor the work to your history.

• Do you take insurance, or is EMDR cash-pay?

  I have a limited number of insurance slots, and sliding scale spots are also limited. Visit my Fees & FAQs page for current availability and EMDR session bundle options.

• Do you offer virtual EMDR therapy?

  Yes. My practice is entirely virtual, serving clients throughout California via secure telehealth.