What I Learnt from Dancing Naked In Front of 10 Women I Barely Knew

The uncomfortable path to one of my most important life lessons

I once studied with a radical teacher of women’s groups. She was a harsh teacher, having a habit of yelling at people when they did something tricky. At first, I was terrified of her, but at a point, I decided she was just what I needed: someone who would call out all my little girly tricks — tricks that I was ready to grow out of.

I can write many stories about my encounters with this teacher — several of them a source of tears. But here is a story about an exercise my teacher had developed, which was a true genius mirror for where a woman is with sisters… and with herself.

From the tantric field to women’s work

My story takes place in 2018, at the very beginning of my work with women’s groups. My curiosity of men and sex had seduced me into the tantric field, but once there: I realized that my most important work wasn’t with men and sex: it was in my relationship with other women.

I had years behind me of troubles relating to women. Prompted by events happening at one of my tantric retreats, I finally admitted to myself how intensely uncomfortable I felt around other women, and how insecure I felt about MYSELF as a woman. As I admitted that to myself, I could suddenly recognize myself being both competitive, aggressive, and even tricky amongst other women — behavior patterns that had before been entirely unconscious to me.

Troubled by this realization, I decided to upgrade my ways of relating with women. And so I signed up to a woman’s retreat, with this half-crazy persona of a teacher — whom I liked because I knew she had the guts to call me out.

Presenting: The dancing naked-exercise

It was early September. I’d spent 6 days in a beautiful Italian mansion together with ten other women. The retreat was coming towards an end, and it had been some beautiful days: the weather had been splendid, the food great, the pool tempting and soothing. We had done tea ceremonies, studied the Ennegram, cooked together, done yoga, meditated, danced, and experienced daily sessions of being put in place — as it always happened around my teacher.

This afternoon, my teacher was secretive. We will do a special exercise this evening, she explained. It lasts for quite a while, and it’s pretty intense.

Here is the exercise: You will take of all your clothes, and you will dance alone, naked, in front of the other women of the group.

I gasped. Does she hate us? was my initial thought. Is she kidding?

She wasn’t kidding.

11 women, two songs each. Everybody sits upright in the half circle and receives the woman in the middle with your heart. When we are all done, you’ll go to bed, and we will talk tomorrow about how it felt for you.

All those judgments running through my head

We pulled straws on the sequence; I ended up being 2nd to last. For two hours I sat watching the other women getting up one by one, undressing and doing their dance.

The dances were very different. Some of us were extremely uncomfortable. Some pretended to be comfortable, but you could see they weren’t. We all felt exposed. I watched and watched, and as I did, all kinds of thoughts ran through my head: Is she genuine now? Look at that way she dances, it’s a bit strange. I can see she is trying to be sexy, it doesn’t suit her. Poor girl, so uncomfortable. And this one here, she is just SO unconscious.

Finally, it was my turn. I remember taking off my clothes. I remember my music started. I remember starting to move, and thinking I did it well, that I looked good, that I could dance, that my body moved in a seductive way. I remember thinking that I enjoyed myself: I am confident, I am good.

And then suddenly my two songs were done, and I opened my eyes and looked at the other women, and they all looked strange.

I looked at my teacher; she looked as if she wanted to vomit.

I put on my clothes, and I felt strange too.

Exposed

That night I barely slept.

Something had gone wrong.

I had gone unconscious as I stood there dancing, and I had shown the whole group something of me which I had tried to keep hidden — from myself.

But what was it that I´d shown?

I couldn’t sleep as I tried to sort out the mystery. I tossed and turned until the sun rose. Then I realized something.

I hadn’t been comfortable at all as I stood there dancing. In fact, I had been very uncomfortable. I had pretended to be cool when I was super vulnerable. I had tried to make myself sexy and superior- but to what aim really?

I wasn’t sure.

The next morning, we had our sharing circle. I didn’t share much, I was still confused. I felt I had let everyone in on something murky and shadowy I barely was aware of myself. I listened as the others shared, but when it was my turn; I just mumbled something about it being challenging and me not having slept much.

I wanted to digest it on my own.

The art of staying present?

It took me nearly a year before I fully understood what went on for me in that exercise.

As the other women had been dancing in front of me, one by one, I had judged them. I had received my sisters in their most vulnerable place while focusing on all the things they did that I didn’t approve of (as if that was my business). Observing their insecurities, I had used what I saw to boost my own (fake) self-confidence, and to make myself better than them.

Then, as I stepped up to be the dancer myself, all those thoughts I had had about the other women: Turned right back at me.

Overwhelmed by this intense judgment, I could not be present — so I spaced out. I fled to a corner of my mind where I was still the greatest, most beautiful, talented, and intelligent woman in space.

The only problem was that I was not… in the room.

How could I be, with all that judgment at me?

SHE — is a mirror of ME

Why was this exercise one of the greatest, deepest things I’ve ever done? Because it taught me that when I judge another woman or think ill of her, those thoughts eventually turn around, and harm me.

Cause she is just a mirror of me.

After years of being competitive, judgmental, and uncomfortable around other women, this exercise became the beginning of deep devotion in me to upgrade my ways of being with my sisters, and with myself.

Through this exercise, I realized that I’m happiest when I vote for my sister's success. Cause then, I have my slate clean and my team on my side. When I allow everybody else to be themselves in all their imperfections and insecurities and complexity — then I can allow myself to be myself in all my imperfections and insecurities and complexity, too.

As I realized the torture of judgment, I also recognized the beauty and intelligence in allowing everything to be: Simply as it is.

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