Does Being Overweight or Underweight Affect Dancing?
As physical beings, we all possess a certain mass and, due to gravity, a corresponding weight. Whether consciously or unconsciously, we experience many aspects of life differently because of our body mass and weight.
We often observe that people who perceive themselves as having a "weight problem" are more careful and self-conscious about their weight. When I say "weight problem" here, I mean people who think they are either overweight or too thin. I emphasize this point frequently during my classes: the perception of being overweight or underweight is largely related to our own subjective experience. While there are medical definitions of excess weight based on health criteria, many of these standards are ones we create ourselves. Throughout this piece, I will refer to people who define themselves in these terms. I believe these perceptions are subjective and can vary greatly from person to person.
Let’s start with a common belief: "It’s hard for overweight people to dance."
Certainly, having more weight can come with some disadvantages. First and foremost, our body image is likely filled with judgments. Before we even get to the physical realities, we might get caught in the mental loop of “it’s difficult for me to move, I don’t look good,” or “I’m dancing to lose weight.” We may feel discomfort about our body fat. We might sense that it’s hard to carry ourselves, needing more effort to move our bodies. In partner work, we might think we’re a "burden" and have difficulty trusting our bodies with our partner. Additionally, experts often point to symptoms like joint pain as being related to excess weight. While these factors can have an impact, I still leave a question mark here—for reasons I will soon explain.
Interestingly, having worked with hundreds of bodies, and as someone who once longed to gain weight but couldn’t, I’ve also noticed a significant number of people who think they’re too thin to dance. I often observe this in certain cultures (for instance, in Anatolia, where there’s a saying: a woman should have flesh).
Those who perceive themselves as very thin may complain about feeling “skin and bones,” or that their bones hurt on the floor. I’ve heard comments like, “I don’t have a belly to shake,” or, “I don’t feel feminine enough,” or, “I’m stiff like a piece of wood.” We frequently hear the phrase, “I can’t move my hips,” especially from people who consider themselves underweight. So here, too, we witness a body image issue.
How you perceive your body—whether overweight or underweight—has a huge impact on how you move. It’s a topic we can work on, dedicate effort to, and improve. I’ll address this subject in another article, but first, I want to share something important:
“WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THERE’S A FACTOR THAT AFFECTS DANCE MORE THAN YOUR WEIGHT?”
Yes, there’s a factor far more important than your weight when it comes to dancing. If you’ve been to my classes, you’ve probably heard me say this many times: your weight—your relationship with gravity.
Let’s take a look at this quote: “We’ve all witnessed people who are very overweight moving as lightly as a feather. So where did their weight go? Conversely, we’ve seen thin people move stiffly, like guards. Where has the weight come from?
According to Laban’s observation, some people adapt to gravity, while others resist it. (Laban for All – Part: Weight).
Of course, Laban wasn’t the only one to make this point. Almost all holistic body practices emphasize the relationship with gravity. As I frequently mention in my classes: As long as we exist on this Earth, we must work on our relationship with gravity.
Or, to put it another way:
Gravity is always our dance partner.
Thus, our capacity to dance is not closely related to how much we weigh, but rather to how much we surrender our weight to the ground, and how much we resist it. Even if we have a lot of weight, when we use our body intelligence and embrace gravity, our movements can be light, fluid, and dynamic. (One of the key factors here is biotensegrity, but I’ll discuss that in another article.)
Conversely, we can be very thin but still feel heavy and rigid in our bodies. This is something I’ve observed frequently, which is why I’m highlighting it: even if our bodies are viewed as very thin by society, our personal body image may feel locked and immovable, as though our body is far heavier than it actually is. If, for some reason, we resist the pull of gravity, the weight we are holding can feel exponentially heavier to us, and moving our body—be it 50 kilograms or more—can feel like lifting iron.
How can we improve our relationship with gravity?
- Not by reading, but through experience. However, reading can open a door in our minds, guiding us towards an embodied experience.
- To work on our relationship with gravity, we must engage our bodies in the process. For example, when we lie on the floor, we can observe how much of our body we are still holding up, even though the ground is there to support us.
- Dances like belly dancing or African dance—tribal dances in general—actively engage with gravity. They can offer principles to explore. Most pelvis-centered practices place great importance on gravity. Movements flow not against gravity but toward the ground, into the depths of gravity.
- Partner work, such as exercises where partners share weight or carry one another, helps us understand the triad of gravity, our partner, and our own body.
- Simple exercises like weight shifts—where, while standing, we shift our torso from side to side, or forward and back—can help us understand how we bear our weight in different positions.
- How much do we lock or tighten our joints? Especially the knees, which are vital in our relationship with gravity, as beings who live upright. If our joints don’t move freely, it will be impossible to perceive and use gravity effectively.
- As with all bodywork, improving our relationship with gravity is a process that requires patience. We don’t suddenly master the art of feeling our weight or giving our weight to the ground. But with consistent and mindful practice, we can move with less effort, more ease, and we can learn to construct our body image not based on external definitions, but on how we feel within.
I was deeply moved when a friend from Iran told me that in Farsi, the word “gravity” is “cazibe” in Turkish which also means “attraction” in English. We live in a system that constantly pushes us to go upward, to advance. Yet, surrendering to the pull of gravity, letting the body yield to the earth, is essential, especially in yin practices. I hope we all get to experience the allure of gravity.