At 4am, alone in my living room, I danced—not to be seen, not to be understood, but because my body needed joy, and I trusted it. Somewhere between the movement, the meditation, and the music, it became clear: I don’t crave validation anymore. I crave alignment. I crave flow.
I love living alone. Although there are moments when loneliness visits, nights like this fill me with the highest gratitude. I can wake up at 3am and recognize that stagnant energy is keeping my mind awake longer than intended. So by 4am, I’m dancing—without a true reason or explanation. My body simply feels called to. Moments like this aren’t meant to be explained prematurely. They are revelational. The understanding comes during the act. Living with someone—having to remain conscious of their presence—can dampen that experience if they don’t understand this part of me.
As I danced, I felt joy. I felt deep appreciation for the art of dance itself. I love dancing. I often get lost not just in the words, but in the entire cadence of a song. I fall in love with the beat, the lyrics, the intention. I’m not a professional dancer, nor have I ever pursued it seriously—though maybe I should reconsider it as a more consistent practice. I dance more like a wild animal, like a lone wolf howling under the moon—fierce, yet fully surrendered to joy. I hate how much dancing has been sexualized by society.
So many natural, expressive, embodied practices that help women connect to their femininity, vitality, and creativity have been sexualized. Dancing. Hip movement. Stretching. Arching and elongating the body. Adornment. Even the smallest acts—like lying in stillness—are objectified.
I now understand why these acts are acts of freedom. The problem is that society has distorted them—demeaned and sexualized them. What’s worse is that we, as women, have fallen victim to it. Religious people may view this through a religious lens. Spiritual people through a spiritual one. Either way, we’ve lost the importance of self-connection. We’ve lost how to honor freedom, individuality, masculine and feminine, yin and yang.
This is not a feminist post. There is a larger concept at stake, because men, too, have been demeaned and demoralized. That post will come. Today, this is about me—honoring my femininity.
As I danced, I had a revelation: I will always give myself these early morning dances when my body asks for them. Not for anyone else’s validation—only my own. My own.
I don’t declare this as a hyper-independent, bitter, yet desperate-for-love woman. Not anymore. I might have been her three, two, or even one year ago—but not now. What I endured burned that version of me away through pain, betrayal, delusion, and confusion. And through those ashes, like a phoenix, I rose. I evolved.
My mind is no longer what it once was. My mind and body are undergoing a metamorphosis. My body moves more freely. My expression is boundless and ever-flowing. It’s no longer predictable—not right now. I’m in a phase of listening to my body. Consistency will come naturally. It will not be rushed, forced, or manufactured. It will be evolution at its finest.
My only job is to keep listening—to my body, my intuition, my expression. To keep evolving. Everything I truly desire will align. As I danced, I realized this is my definition of self-love. My dancing—unexplained, unplanned, unpredicted—is an embodiment of it. Maybe that’s the Sagittarius in me.
It was also in this moment that I realized: I will never need another person to tell me they love me. I no longer need verbal love that exists only in words or in appearances. I view relationships and partnerships differently now. I don’t want a love that confines me. I desire a love that allows me to be free. A love that lets me wake up in the middle of the night to dance, receive a revelation, and write something thought-provoking—without explanation.
It’s difficult to explain something before I fully understand it, because I’m still learning myself. I desire a partnership that allows me the freedom to grow and evolve in my divine feminine, while the other simply bears witness to my soul as it unfolds.
As I danced, I released every version of “love” that once made me feel limited, unappreciated, and confined. I no longer care for the words “I love you”. Love only resonates with me now through actions, consistency, and respect. Everything else is smoke and mirrors. And I’m going to dance my way through the all of the smoke everytime.
#IYKYK
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