Finding Myself Through Dance – by ALIGN founder Michael Cornell

Dance has been an integral part of my life, providing not just physical activity but a profound emotional outlet and a means of self-discovery. Recently, I had an experience that reminded me of the crucial role dance plays in my well-being.

A week ago, I found myself feeling somewhat stressed, grappling with the complex experience of simply being alive. Do you ever feel this way? Nothing particularly bad was happening, but I knew I needed to be in a better emotional space. Fortunately, I had plans that evening to dance the tango. The event was fantastic, and that night, I slept deeply, waking with the first thought, “Thank God I danced last night.” Whatever turmoil was brewing inside me needed an outlet, and dance has always been the valve I turn to release the pressure. It’s not that I need to dance—I must dance to remain a healthy person.

As a kid, I was always extremely athletic, with strong coordination and an aptitude for sports. But as I matured into my mid-teens, I discovered that dance offered an athletic experience combined with artistic expression. Moving my body to music and experiencing this with others brought me immense pleasure.

As I matured, my relationship with dance evolved. While our bodies age and impose certain limitations, we gain a deeper understanding of fluidity, musicality, line, nuance, and presence. Aging dancers learn to explore deeper wells beyond mere virtuosity. We shouldn’t shrink from our maturity; instead, it allows us to offer a richer context with every step. Perhaps only our peers can fully appreciate our less dynamic presentation, but this doesn’t diminish our contribution. This is why I love Argentine Tango so much—older dancers are often more respected than their younger counterparts. The dance’s sophistication seems to age gracefully, mirroring the dancer’s own journey. We constantly learn new techniques and adapt rapidly. Our work as we age isn’t diminished; it’s enhanced. Dancers who continue to dance age like fine wine, their resilience creating a powerful bouquet.

I’ve enjoyed how developing a stronger sense of myself as I age has impacted my relationship with movement and altered my process. As a young dancer, I couldn’t fully acknowledge my identity. Discussions about feelings were rare. I didn’t fit in—a 15-year-old boy from Ohio with blue-collar parents who excelled in sports suddenly wanted to take ballet. This was incredibly abnormal for that time period. I remember wanting to hide, to train as a ballet dancer without anyone knowing. The reactions were usually either disbelief or amazement. It was hard to find an identity because no one could define me. I was a sensitive but athletic boy with a creative streak, not fitting into any box. Many projected their thoughts onto me, and I had to build a shell for protection. I knew I had to shut out the noise if I wanted to pursue dance. People couldn’t understand that I simply wanted to dance.

I share this to explain the journey of self-acceptance that allowed me to participate in my art. As a young dancer, I wasn’t fully confident in accepting myself as a dance artist. Now, I’m too old to care about others’ opinions, and this self-acceptance has empowered my relationship with my work. I care less about whether others like me or my dancing; I dance for myself. Having faced many critics in the past, I welcome a few more. Yet, I’m also more open to listening to criticism and feedback, humbled by the challenge of dancing well and understanding its depth of difficulty.

In summary, dance is more than a pastime for me—it is a vital component of my well-being and personal growth. Through dance, I’ve embraced my identity, found joy in movement, and discovered deeper meanings in my actions. As I continue to dance, I not only grow as a dancer but also as an individual, appreciating the profound connection between art and life.