How Belly Dancing Supports My Recovery
I don’t like my belly. I don’t like it because I don’t like how it looks. I don’t like how it looks because from a very young age, I have been told that my stomach had to be smaller and flatter for me to be worthy, to be admired, to be valuable as a person. I learned that the belly I was born with should only be met with ridicule and disgust, and that my body, the one I have to live with for the rest of my life, isn't ok as is.
Belly dancing is my big middle finger to all that.
For most of my life, I spent wasted a colossal amount of time trying to change my body. I starved, purged, and sweated my way into a smaller body, but that belly was stubborn. I hated it then, but looking back now, I revere its tenacity. It knows there’s nothing wrong with it. When I disagreed, it just growled at me louder.
Once it became a protective home for my babies, I slowly started giving my belly the love it deserves. I suddenly had to listen to my hunger because it wasn’t just my own. The pregnancy experience put an end to any hopes of a flat stomach, but ironically, it compelled me to appreciate it for what it does, not what it looks like. “Maybe you’re not the prettiest thing to the world,” I thought, “but you’re still really freaking cool.”
Belly dancing reinforces that.
The term "belly dance" originates from the French "Danse du ventre," meaning "dance of the stomach," and is how western culture describes "Raks sharqi," which means "Eastern Dance" in Arabic.
The dance itself has roots in the Middle East and North Africa (shout out to my Arab ancestors for bestowing their legacy) and India. What we think of as belly dance today comes from Turkish and Egyptian cultures. This dance was and is danced when women gather socially. Even today, young women in the Middle East and North Africa share their belly dancing skills with potential mothers-in-law to pass the vibe check.
Its introduction to the West at the 1893 Chicago World Fair was met with mixed reactions, often misunderstood as scandalous because of the nature of the movements and stereotypes about Eastern women. Belly dance also influenced burlesque shows in the United States, because of course we took something empowering for women and turned it into entertainment for the male gaze. (Absolutely no shade to burlesque - Cher, Christina Aguilera, and I have all felt empowered and had a fabulous time with this type of dance.)
Today, it is recognized as a culturally rich art form and feminist expression. What began as women in community has come full circle as classes and performances worldwide center this same feminine energy.
My first belly dancing class was transformative. All different shapes and sizes unapologetically baring their beautiful midsections. All moving with the grace of a ballerina but with the intensity of a seasoned athlete. It is so healing to witness the power of the female form. Some of them looked like me. It empowered me to jump in and move right alongside them, and it touched me to be so promptly accepted.
I look forward to this time every week. I feel safe there. I can leave all self-consciousness at the door. I can be free and shake off the day while creating something pretty and collaborative.
Almost 4 years into my recovery journey, and it has been anything but linear. From when my body dissatisfaction was causing compulsive and dangerous behaviors, to a body neutrality mindset, one relapse, lots of tears, and finally to a place where I can even (sometimes) like how I look with my cute little tummy - a pretty bedlah doesn’t hurt, either.
Whether you are interested in dancing for wellness, community, or both, join us at our World Belly Dance Day Celebration May 10th!
If watching is more your thing, you can catch Krista’s Dance Collective (https://www.facebook.com/61567346717275) and other local belly dancing performances at A Night in the Desert, Saturday, May 3rd, 7-10 pm at Fall Creek High School Auditorium.
"History and Origins of Belly Dance." World Belly Dance, www.worldbellydance.com/history/. Accessed 15 Apr. 2025.