Overcoming Self-Criticism in Dance Training. Why Dance is About the Journey, Not the Destination.
From Align Ballet Method founder Michael Cornell.

I’ve been dancing classical ballet since the age of 15. I put myself into class—no one encouraged me. It was my decision to be there. My entire life, I have loved the process of training.

Classical ballet is my primary dance technique, but my secondary pursuit is Argentine Tango. I use tango as a laboratory to understand the dance training process: what qualifies as quality instruction, what motivates people to participate in classes, what keeps them coming back, and how to re-experience the emotional challenges of learning a difficult skill. I evaluate my own experience in tango and use those experiences as a reference guide for operating my company the Align Ballet Method, which teaches classical ballet to adults, primarily beginners. Tango places me back in the shoes of a beginner—someone who often feels insecure and vulnerable.

Last evening, I attended a tango practica, an event where people gather to simply practice their tango technique. It differs from a social tango event, where the floor is expected to continuously move and talking while dancing is generally frowned upon. At a tango practica, dancers stop, discuss their efforts, break down movements, and polish their technique. I was working with one of my primary partners, a beautiful dancer and mother of a teenage daughter. She has been dancing Argentine Tango for over a decade and is one of the strongest followers in our community. Her footwork is inventive, her embrace is as comfortable as your favorite sweater, and her movement quality is fluid.

Despite her skills, she expressed concerns about her progress. She told me she had studied with many different instructors and tried various techniques but felt overly self-critical when she thought about her own dancing. This is something I see often in dance training—dancers get too caught up in their own heads. They constantly think about different aspects of their performance or technique, fixating on the notes they’ve been given, how they’re applying them, and whether their efforts are paying off. We can often be our own worst critics.

I told her, “You know, in the 10 years I spent as a professional dancer, outside of work hours, I rarely thought about my dancing, yet I constantly improved. Maybe it was because I was physically and mentally exhausted from rehearsal that I had zero energy to think about dancing once I left the studio. I had the luxury of being paid for my work, receiving coaching from outstanding mentors, and engaging in daily practice. My improvement came primarily because my effort was consistent.”

I see my partner’s improvement, even though she doesn’t see it herself. I looked at her and said, “Trust the process. You’re putting in the work, you’re doing everything you need to do, and it’s showing in your dancing. You don’t need to think about it so much when you’re not working. In fact, too much thinking while dancing may inhibit your movements. Allow it to happen.” There’s a famous line from the Tao Te Ching, the ancient Chinese “book of the way” that says, “Do your daily work and then let it go.” This is wise advice to live by.

She responded, “But I have this way of walking on my foot, and this way of transferring my weight, and…” I interrupted, “Yes, you’ve studied so much that you now have an arsenal of technique—and that’s exactly what training should give you. Not for some unattainable perfection, because trust me, you will never reach that point. After 35 years, I’m still evolving as a movement artist. If you put in the work, you’ll build your technical tools, a complete kit you can use in various situations. That’s what quality dance training provides. There’s no need to overly analyze your effort—just continually dedicate yourself to practice and honestly evaluate your progress. Trust your teachers, and then let it go. Enjoy your dancing and your life. Your training is only meant to help you build the technique to ultimately reach a state of flow, where you may dance well without thinking, and be present in the moment.”

As a dancer, I always had many outside activities—probably too many. I was always starting a side hustle or getting involved in other performing arts outside of dance. I now realize that although my artistic staff may have labeled me as uncommitted, those extracurricular activities kept me sane. Ballet’s workload is relentless and confining, and these activities also gave me skills that I used after my dance career. Many of those early extracurricular experiments and failures helped me as a performer and later as an entrepreneur.

Your dancing is a journey, not a destination. Additionally, because of the Dunning-Kruger effect, we are often the worst judges of our own progress. While this effect is often associated with overconfidence, I’ve seen it cause a lack of confidence. It’s common for a dancer to feel worse about their work as they improve because they begin to understand the details more deeply. If you believe that dance training is negatively affecting your mental health, it’s time to take a break and come back to it later.

We can reach a point where our training begins to do more harm than good. I took a long break from Argentine Tango for many reasons and returned much later with a fresh attitude. I found new, inspiring coaches who gave me the deep technical training I needed. When you’re outside the studio, ask yourself: Is your training benefiting you holistically as a person? If the answer is not a positive one, it might be time to take a break or reduce your intensity.

Dance should be for your own pleasure, not a second job. Dance like no one is watching. 

Thank you for reading. I hope this post will inspire you to continue your dance journey with a positive attitude

Below is a sample of my tango practice with my partner Rena who is not the person referrenced in this article.