Last weekend I had the unexpected honour of having some of my pictures included in a small photographic exhibition organised by a British NGO on the topic of freedom. For a bit less than a week, me and the other participants —no more than fifteen people— were required to submit pictures that represented moments of freedom to us. As humble as it was, considering that the exhibition was composed of about fifty pictures from people who were only remotely connected to photography (for most of us being just a leisure activity), it was a very uplifting experience in my life.

The above was one of the pictures showcased in the exhibition. In it, you can see myself dancing, the camera having been purposely placed on the floor, creating a connection between it, my body, and the light coming in from the big windows.

I am only an amateur photographer and dancer, reason for which I appreciated the more this opportunity of toying with and exploring the combination of my artistic passions, on the hope that some spark of talent would show.

Among my pictures selected (four in total), this is the one that means the most to me and that I feel most proud of. Perhaps because I am in it, allowing people to see me in what I consider an intimate moment of self-expression. By far this image was the most personal of them all, its strength lying not in the dancing per se, but rather in the deeper meaning dancing has in my life.

Like most women, I have suffered from body insecurity and low self-esteem whenever my body did not conform to societal standards. In my teenage years, I used to look at my body in the mirror and find everything that was “wrong” with it, that is, what was different from the celebrities’ bodies worshipped in the media: too much of this, too little of that, not the right height, consistency, or shape… I became too aware of my body, and this would sometimes prevent me from doing things I so wanted, like going to the beach on a hot summer day.

But there was one exception to this, one moment in which the awareness of my body completely disappeared and I’d simply let it free, and that was when I danced.

I firstly started dancing in the solitude of my room, already in my childhood, moving on to nightclubs when I was of age, until finally, a few years ago, I joined a contemporary dance group for beginners. It turned out to be the most liberating experience of my life. I learned to love my body and to push it to unexpected limits. With every movement of my arms, every blow of my legs against the air, every tap of my bare feet on the ground, I would be filled with joy.

While dancing, the physical limitations of my organism are removed, it simply flows with the rhythm, taking in all the space around, unpreoccupied by who is or who is not looking. I don’t need to see myself in a mirror to know that, when I’m dancing, I glow. Light comes out from within and irradiates through every pore, signifying my sheer happiness, the liberation of the soul.

Dancing has allowed me not only to express my inner emotions, but, most importantly, to find myself; it made my body and spirit re-connect into one self-loving, self-confident, full being. I have become proud of my body, accepting of its every curve, wrinkle and imperfection, thankful for what it is able to accomplish: from walking to grabbing to feeling… I have learned to cherish this mighty mechanism that has blessed me with power, health and autonomy.

Sometimes I forget it, though, and the old insecurities come creeping back. But all it takes to remind me of how beautiful my body is, is to just close my eyes, and dance.