Be the change you want to see at the bellydance show.

Since 2017, anyone who performs with me receives a copy of my performance guidelines, a two-page document in outline format peppered by LOTS OF SHOUTING CAPITAL LETTERS.

It includes a bunch of things you would expect, such as ARRIVE ON TIME and BE FULLY COSTUMED, and some controversial takes like EAT AND DRINK TO SUPPORT YOUR PERFORMANCE. One of the most crucial points, and the one I'm the least lenient about, shows up on the second page.

3.a. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, TALK ANY SHIT ABOUT YOURSELF OR YOUR TROUPMATES (or anybody, really) BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER A SHOW.

When I was a new dancer, I performed with a gal who walked into the backstage of every performance and said, "I look like shit. We all look like shit." The result, as you might expect, was that everybody felt like shit before they went on stage. I have worked with dancers who stand in the performance lineup talking about how badly they're going to blow it. I have hung out with folks who, right after they perform, immediately start talking about all the mistakes they made, all the times they dropped their sword, and all the problems they had with their costume.

But I don't hang out with those people anymore. I made the performance guidelines so I didn't have to. I wanted dancers who perform with me to have a different experience. We take the stage like killers, and we leave the stage like killers. We act like killers the whole time we're in costume, the whole time we're at the venue. If you and your whole crew act like you're dangerous, immaculate dancers, you will perform like dangerous, immaculate dancers. Do I ever cry in the car on the way home? Sure, doesn't everybody? But you're never going to see that shit.

So a dancer on my current performance team was surprised recently when we did a gig (nailed it), and she found herself at a table with a handful of dancers simply tearing themselves to pieces. She had just watched and appreciated these gals' numbers, but now that was all being undone by their determination to go as quickly as they could to the worst, most insecure parts of their brains.

I think dancers do this for a few reasons. One, because it feels safer to recognize your own shortcomings than to risk someone else recognizing them for you. Two, because even the most brazen performer is afraid of coming off as too confident, too full of herself. Three, because performing is hard as hell and brings up a lot of emotions, and your mouth wants to process all those emotions around people who might say, "Girl, no, you were amazing!"

But what happens instead is the self-hate avalanche.

I say, "OMG, I tripped on my skirt, I feel so stupid!"

So the dancer beside me says, "OMG, I forgot the whole choreography, I suck!"

And the dancer beside her says, "OMG, I'm too fat to even be on stage!"

And the dancer beside her says, "If you're too fat for the stage, I'm too fat for this building!"

And we keep going around, burying ourselves up to our eyeballs in self-doubt, infecting each other with insecurity. It's an avalanche, and once that ice comes down, it's awful hard to dig yourself back out.

Instead, what if we all picked a different strategy?

What if I say, "I felt really powerful in the finale of my piece!"

And the dancer beside me says, "My practice for this show really paid off!"

And the dancer beside her says, "I felt so connected to my breath while I was dancing!"

And the dancer beside her says, "I put on one hell of a show tonight!"

My point is this: you get to decide how you communicate with the universe. I wanted to work with people willing to travel towards their best selves. I created a bossy document detailing behavior that I thought would take us there. And it worked so well that a dancer who spends all of her time in my world was surprised at what other dancers' worlds are like.

So here's my suggestion: after your next performance, choose your words purposefully. Speak to your bravery, your effort, and your joy. Compliment yourself, and celebrate your wins. The other dancers may choose self-doubt, and you can limit how much you engage with them. Be the change you want to see, and enjoy the good vibrations.