Finding My Rhythm: Healing, Leading, Becoming

There’s a dip in our routine—simple, elegant, familiar. I had done it countless times with a previous instructor. So when I worked with my new instructor on this same routine, I didn’t think twice. I knew the move. I trusted my instructor. He was strong, stable, and more than capable of keeping me safe.

And yet… I couldn’t do it.

Each time we approached the dip, I prepared to bend at the waist, arms overhead, extending fully backward in trust. But something stopped me. It was subtle—barely noticeable unless you were the one dancing. I couldn’t move. His hold was too high, too firm, too controlling. It kept me upright, locked in place.

At first, I assumed he was just walking through the choreography—not committing to the full move yet. But it kept happening. Again and again, I found myself stuck. I even tried adjusting his arms myself, moving them lower to my waist, where I needed support to hinge backward. He apologized, we tried again… and still, I couldn’t dip.

I grew frustrated. Annoyed, even. Why is he doing this? I finally asked. I explained how his grip—though well-intentioned—was preventing the movement entirely. His response was honest and eye-opening.

“This is just how I usually do dips,” he said. “I hold my partners close, support their back and shoulders. That way, I stay in control. I don’t have to worry about a partner I don’t know well losing balance. I can keep her safe.”

And just like that, the lightbulb went off.

He wasn’t being difficult. He wasn’t trying to control me out of stubbornness. He was acting out of responsibility—out of a need for control that helped him feel confident, especially when working with newer partners. His way wasn’t wrong. It was familiar. It was safe. It gave him the ability to protect and predict. And most importantly, it worked for him—until now.

That moment shifted everything.

I realized that I was asking him to change without understanding why he did things the way he did. I had assumed that he didn’t trust me. But the truth was, trust is mutual. And in that moment, neither of us had fully earned it yet. Trust doesn’t appear just because the music starts—it’s built, step by step, through honesty and shared experience.

We talked. I explained how the dip worked best for me, and he shared what made him uncomfortable about loosening his hold. We tried again—his hands a little lower this time. Still too tight. We laughed. But we agreed on one thing: we’d keep practicing. We wouldn’t give up. We’d find our rhythm, together.

This is change management.

In medicine, especially in leadership roles, I’ve often found myself facing resistance to change. New workflows, policies, or technologies are met with skepticism. People dig in, preferring the comfort of what they know. They say things like “We’ve always done it this way.” And for a long time, I saw that as obstinance. But dance is teaching me to see it differently.

When people resist change, they’re often protecting something—control, predictability, safety. It’s not always fear. Sometimes, it’s deep responsibility. Their way has worked. Their way has kept patients safe. Their way allows them to lead with confidence. And now, here I come, suggesting a dip that leaves them exposed.

The lesson isn’t to push harder—it’s to pause and ask why.

Why do you do it this way?
What do you need to feel safe trying it another way?
How can I support you while we both learn something new?

In both dance and leadership, building trust isn’t about one person giving in—it’s about both people being willing to step into something unfamiliar. To communicate. To get it wrong and try again. To keep showing up and refining the hold until it works—for both of you.

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Leadership Lesson:
Resistance to change often masks a desire for safety and control. Instead of forcing people to adapt, take the time to understand their current method. Ask why. Acknowledge what’s working. Then co-create a new approach—together. Change doesn’t happen in a single conversation. Like a dance, it’s practiced over time, in partnership, with trust.