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When Dance Isn’t Just Fun: The Darker Side of Social Dancing

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Like any community, the Latin social dance scene has both positive and negative aspects. It’s also worth noting that small communities often reflect the broader issues present in society at large. Today I want to point out some of the negative patterns I’ve observed in the social dance world. Not to discourage anyone, but to help dancers navigate the scene with more clarity and confidence. By being aware of the less-talked about side of social dancing, you can better protect yourself and make informed, empowered choices. Let’s dive in!

The Subtle Encouragement of People-Pleasing

    People-pleasing means consistently disregarding your own needs and desires to please others, often to your own detriment. Unfortunately, this kind of behavior is encouraged in the social dance community.

    For instance, leaders are often told that their goal should be to “make the followers happy.” Followers, in turn, are praised for doing exactly what the leader asked during the dance. There is also pressure to say “yes” to every dance invitation, since otherwise you might hurt someone’s feelings.

    These things might seem harmless or even kind. But consistently ignoring your own boundaries and desires to meet others’ expectations is a form of self-abandonment, and over time, it can damage your self-esteem and well-being.

    You might think that by appealing to others, you make them happy and feel happy in return. But let’s look at those earlier examples: leads who are too focused on pleasing their partners are not always fun to dance with. They can become too tense and forget to enjoy themselves in the process, making the dance less fun for both people. Similarly, accepting a dance invitation when you don’t really want to actually strips both people of joy – no one wants to feel like they’re getting a pity dance. (Read more about why saying no to dance invitations is important.)

    Respecting your own boundaries isn’t selfish—it’s essential for authentic connection and mutual enjoyment on the dance floor.

    Blurring of Physical Boundaries and Consent

    Having physical boundaries means having the right to decide who touches us, where, how, and for how long. This applies to everyone—adults, children, and even animals. Our bodily autonomy matters, because when we have the freedom to decide what happens to us, we are more likely to feel secure, respected, and in control. This allows us to engage with others from a place of choice rather than obligation, pressure, or fear.

    In partner dance styles, however, there are often strong norms and expectations about how certain moves should be done and what the “correct” way of dancing looks like according to the dance style. Some examples of expectations would be ”Brazilian zouk should be danced closely with lots of body contact,” or “Bachata is meant to be flirty and sensual”. 

    While there is some room for personal expression, these norms can limit our ability to make choices that align with our physical comfort. To honor your boundaries, it’s important to reflect on whether both the dance style itself and the way it’s danced in your community feel right to you and if the amount of self-expression and freedom given is enough for you.

    Another issue tied to physical boundaries is the expectation to say “yes” to every dance invitation, which I mentioned earlier. Agreeing to dance with people you don’t want to dance with means neglecting your own needs and disregarding the “who” aspect of your physical boundaries. Doing this repeatedly can erode our connection to our own instincts and boundaries.

    And once again, the notion that followers must comply with everything a leader proposes — and that failing to do so means they’re ‘dancing incorrectly’ — pressures her to override her own boundaries. This can be harmful, both physically and emotionally.

    I’d love to see all dancers acknowledge that they do have the right to physical boundaries and leaders embrace the idea that if a follower doesn’t do exactly what they’re leading, it isn’t “wrong” or a “mistake” — it might simply be her respecting her boundaries or even contributing her own ideas to the dance. I think this mindset would take a lot of pressure off of leaders as well.

    Objectifying Followers

    You’ve probably already heard about objectification of women as sexual objects and that happens in the dance scene as well. But I want to draw attention to a different kind of objectification, one that I have never heard anyone speak about and which is sadly present even in beginner classes across many social dance styles.

    I’m talking about objectification of followers as “dance objects” to be moved and manipulated. For instance, it’s common to hear instructors tell leaders to “flick her hand so it goes up” or “adjust your frame so her upper body starts tilting.” The treatment of followers as machines to control, rather than people with agency, is subtle, but nevertheless dehumanizing.

    Let’s not forget that the person standing in front of you in the dance class or the party is a human being with feelings, desires, hopes, fears and preferences. You might think “if I raise her hand, she will turn”, but what if she doesn’t want to turn? Perhaps last week she enjoyed fast spins but this week she is in the mood for calmer dances? 

    Unfortunately it doesn’t get better as you become a more advanced follower. Some leaders may begin to view skilled followers as “Ferraris amongst Wolkswagens”, but still not full human beings. If you take a dance class in a technique-heavy dance style as a follower, you pretty much sign up to be objectified.

    One possible alternative lies in dance styles where technique is less central and the emphasis is on connection, fun, and music—like some forms of forró or Dominican bachata. In these dances, you move through the “learning moves” phase more quickly, and the focus shifts to enjoying the social experience. Personally, as a follower, I felt a big difference in how I was treated at forró versus Brazilian zouk parties during my trip to Brazil. (Zouk is a highly technical dance, while forró is simpler, social, and deeply woven into local culture.)

    I am sure leaders can be objectified as well – like slot machines that need to produce great dances to every follower, especially the advanced and pro dancers – but since I am not a leader, I would love to hear about your experience in the comments, or just shoot me a DM @jettence on Instagram.

    Easy Access to Women’s Bodies

    One troubling dynamic I see in the social dance scene is the easy access men have to women’s bodies—often without having to earn trust, build rapport, or show respect. For some, this might seem like a perk: dance offers physical closeness and interaction without the usual social or emotional investment. In fact, this very access is why some men are drawn to dance classes in the first place.

    Unlike in traditional social settings, men don’t need to be particularly confident, funny, well-groomed, or emotionally intelligent to participate. In partner dance classes, instructor rotates partners every few minutes, which means women can end up paired with people they wouldn’t choose on their own—and may feel uncomfortable and trapped. Most women know the experience of silently praying for the instructor to call “change partners” as quickly as possible.

    Things are a bit better at social dance events, where women have more freedom to say “no” to dance invitations. However, as discussed earlier, the pressure to be polite or avoid confrontation often prevents women from exercising that right. And even when they do say no, men may not interpret repeated rejections correctly. Rather than working on themselves as a person, eg improving hygiene and social skills, they double down on improving their dance technique—as if better footwork will make them a more likeable person.

    But here’s the thing: I’d rather dance with a beginner who is warm, respectful, and charismatic than an advanced dancer with poor hygiene and questionable morals. Technical skill is important, but character, self-awareness, and mutual respect matter more. (I have a full post about hygiene for social dancers here. I don’t think I started out with good enough hygiene either, so no shame!)

    In sensual dance styles like kizomba, zouk, or sensual bachata, this issue becomes even more complicated. These dances offer men the chance to experience sensual movement with women without needing to build a genuine connection or enter a committed relationship. In traditional dating contexts, achieving that level of closeness often requires much more effort, trust building and emotional investment, but in dance, it’s handed over freely, often by default. The result is normalization of non-commital behavior (which is also a problem in the society at large).

    Easy access to women’s bodies, in my view, creates a dynamic where no one truly benefits. Women experience repeated boundary violations and men become lazy and miss the opportunity to grow relationally. 

    A Critical Lens, But Not the Whole Picture

    Does this all sound a bit too negative? It might. But these reflections are based on nearly a decade of experience in the Latin social dance community. And this is just a starting point, there are many layers to the challenges that exist, and these are simply the ones that came to mind first.

    If you have any thoughts about what I have shared here I’d love to hear them. Drop a comment below or send me a message @jettence on Instagram.

    No worries though, it’s obviously not all negative in the scene. To balance things out, I’ll be writing a follow-up piece celebrating all the great things about social dance. So make sure you’re subscribed to the blog to get new posts sent directly to your inbox.

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