Let’s Get One Thing Straight
Fear wasn’t the problem. Not really. The problem was believing fear had the final say.
This post is about a moment that started with sweaty palms and ended with something close to liberation — all because I chose to move anyway.
Where I Was Before I Moved
There was a stretch of time where I was pouring into everyone — at work, at home, in the community — but no one noticed how empty I was running. I kept smiling. I kept performing. And on paper? I looked good.
But I was tired of looking good and feeling invisible to my own life.
I started asking questions I didn’t have the answers for: When is it my turn? What does joy look like when no one’s watching? Is there space for me in the rooms I keep building for others?
I didn’t need a brand strategy. I needed a breakthrough.
And oddly enough, that breakthrough started with a flyer for a free beginner dance class.
Last week, I shared how Fun On The Run Plus One wasn’t built in a boardroom. It was built in the kind of silence that makes you question whether joy is even available to you.
I was showing up for everyone else and secretly asking: “Is it my turn yet?”
Then came the dance class. Free. Local. And terrifying.
The Decision: RSVP to Something That Scared Me
Let’s not sugarcoat it — I almost didn’t go. The voices in my head were LOUD:
- “You’re gonna look ridiculous.”
- “You’re too old for this.”
- “What if nobody talks to you?”
But I’ve learned: when fear starts running its mouth like that, you’re probably on the edge of something real.
So I said yes. I showed up. Alone. And I moved.
The Scene: What Happened at the Class
It wasn’t smooth. I missed the count. I spun the wrong way. I caught my own foot.
And then?
A stranger whispered, “You good. Keep going.”
That wasn’t just encouragement. That was permission. That was community. That was proof that you don’t need to be polished to belong — you just need to be present.
The Shift: What It Gave Me
I didn’t walk out of that class with perfect rhythm. But I walked out with something better:
- Relief — from the pressure to prove anything to anyone.
- Remembrance — of the version of me who used to dream out loud, move without apology, and laugh so hard my body became its own soundtrack.
- Reconnection — with my younger self, the girl who used to dance in her room like the floor was lava and the mirror was an audience.
That space gave me permission to breathe again. And the wild part? Nobody needed me to perform. They just needed me to be real.
That night didn’t make me a dancer. But it did give me:
- New friends who still check in every time a beat drops
- A new standard for what courage looks like
- A reminder that joy often hides in the things you’ve avoided
It wasn’t about the dance. It was about choosing something that lit me up and letting that be enough.
Takeaway: You’re Not Lazy — You’re Avoiding Joy
Joy doesn’t require a new wardrobe, a new job, or a complete reinvention.
Sometimes it just needs:
- Your RSVP to that free yoga class
- Your yes to the group hike
- Your bold step onto the dance floor
Joy doesn’t need a spotlight. Just your willingness to meet it halfway.
Challenge: Try This Today
🔹 Pick one local event that makes you curious.
🔹 Go solo if you need to.
🔹 Go awkward. Go unsure. Just go.
And ask yourself this:
“Can I show up for the version of me who just wants to have fun?”
The Bigger Picture: Why This Moment Mattered
Here’s the truth: that dance class wasn’t about movement. It was about identity. About reclaiming the parts of myself that had gone quiet in the name of responsibility, roles, and keeping it together.
Too often, we think healing only happens in therapy, or joy only counts when it’s earned. But what if freedom lives in the small, overlooked spaces — the invitations you almost ignored, the tiny risks no one claps for?
That night reminded me:
- You’re allowed to follow what feels good — without an audience.
- You don’t need to be extraordinary to be free.
- Courage isn’t a one-time act. It’s a rhythm you build.
The more you honor what moves you — art, laughter, movement, music — the more you remember who you are underneath the fear. And when you remember who you are? Everything opens.
This is a call back to yourself. Not for validation. But for alignment.
Say yes. Then show up. Let that be enough.
Closing Thoughts: This Wasn’t About Dance
This was about identity reclamation. About choosing softness in a world that demands we stay sharp. About saying yes to something that felt foolish — and walking away feeling full.
This blog isn’t just a recap. It’s a reminder:
- You deserve a life that feels like yours.
- You don’t have to be brave in public to be powerful in private.
- And sometimes, freedom shows up in sneakers, not speeches.
You owe yourself that one small step toward joy. Not the big, post-worthy leap. Just the little yes that changes everything.
So let’s not wait for another invitation.
Let’s not ask fear for permission.
Let’s just move.
And let that be the moment that sets you free.
This was about liberation. About choosing what moves you — literally and figuratively. About remembering that you don’t have to wait for permission to live out loud.
So what are you waiting for?
Move. Even if you mess it up. Especially if you mess it up.
Danielle Bush
Founder, Fun On The Run Plus One
đź“Ť Follow updates: funontherun.co | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook
