“The courage to be yourself often begins the moment you stop auditioning for everyone else’s approval.” Author unknown

The other day I was standing with a friend in a T-Mobile store. My phone was on, and a song came through the speaker. I can’t even remember what the song was, but I remember the beat. It was lively, infectious. Before I knew it, my feet had started moving almost on their own. I wasn’t thinking about it—I was simply feeling the music.

My friend laughed and jokingly said, “Why don’t you just get up and dance? It’s obvious you’re really into this song.”

I smiled.

But I didn’t dance.

Instead, I said, “I wish I had the courage.”

That comment stayed with me long after we left the store.

It made me wonder why something that felt so natural in my body suddenly became something I couldn’t allow myself to do. What was I protecting myself from?

Would people think I looked foolish?

Would they think, “What’s that old man doing?”

Would my dance moves seem awkward, strange, or simply embarrassing?

The interesting thing is that the desire to dance disappeared the moment I imagined being watched.

That made me think about all the other moments in my life when I wanted to do something but didn’t.

There were countless times I wanted to sing but worried my voice wasn’t good enough.

I often held back my opinions in meetings because I feared sounding unintelligent.

At parties I usually stayed quiet until I felt safe with the people around me. I was cautious—sometimes overly cautious.

Even dancing usually happened only with an intimate partner or after a drink or two had lowered my self-consciousness. Alcohol didn’t make me a better dancer; it simply quieted the inner critic that had been telling me to sit down.

As I reflected, I realized this wasn’t really about dancing.

It was about permission.

Permission to be spontaneous.

Permission to be playful.

Permission to look imperfect.

Permission to be seen.

When we’re children, we often dance because the music moves us.

Somewhere along the way, we stop dancing because other people might move us with their opinions.

As a therapist, I’ve watched countless people imprison themselves inside invisible walls built from imagined judgments. We become experts at anticipating criticism before anyone has actually criticized us. We rehearse embarrassment that hasn’t happened. We edit ourselves before anyone has had the chance to know who we really are.

The prison door is rarely locked from the outside.

More often, we are holding it shut ourselves.

Perhaps that’s why so many people seem free while others feel confined.

The difference isn’t always confidence.

Sometimes it’s simply the willingness to risk looking foolish.

Ironically, many of the people we admire most are those who gave themselves permission to be different. They danced before they knew the steps. They sang before they knew if they could carry a tune. They spoke before they knew if everyone would agree.

I also found myself smiling at memories from college.

Back then I did things I would never dream of doing today—accepted crazy dares, took risks, and once laughed so hard with friends that we literally collapsed on the ground. We laughed until our stomachs hurt and we could barely breathe.

Somewhere between youth and adulthood, many of us exchange spontaneity for caution.

Some of that is wisdom.

But some of it is fear disguised as maturity.

As I’ve grown older, I’m beginning to wonder whether courage isn’t always found in life’s biggest decisions.

Sometimes courage is much smaller.

It’s dancing in a phone store.

It’s singing when you know you’re off-key.

It’s raising your hand to share an opinion.

It’s wearing the bright shirt you love.

It’s laughing a little too loudly.

It’s allowing yourself to be fully alive without first asking for permission.

Maybe people will judge.

Maybe they won’t.

But if we continually surrender our impulses to the fear of embarrassment, we slowly lose touch with one of the most joyful parts of ourselves.

The music keeps playing.

The only question is whether we’ll finally get up and dance.

EXERCISES

• When was the last time you wanted to do something spontaneous but stopped yourself because you worried about what others would think?
• What is one “dance” you’ve never allowed yourself to do—not literally, but metaphorically?
• Whose judgment are you still carrying, even though they may not even be thinking about you?
• Looking back over your life, what opportunities did fear of embarrassment quietly steal from you?
• If you knew no one would judge you, what would you do differently this week?

This week, do one harmless thing that makes you feel just a little self-conscious.

It might be humming your favorite song while shopping, complimenting a stranger, wearing something a little more colorful, taking a dance class, singing in the car with the windows down, or yes… letting your feet move to the music when no one expects it.

Notice what happens.

Not around you.

Inside you.

You may discover that the freedom you were searching for wasn’t waiting for other people’s approval.

Remember, don’t act your age!