BY JESSICA TRUJILLO for WEEKLY VOLCANO 5/9/25
Several years ago, I took a beginning flamenco dance class. The strong footwork combined with elegant hand flourishes made me feel powerful and feminine. It was shortly after my second divorce, and I was in my early forties—a time when I felt ready to expand out of my current form into a new version of myself. It provided exactly the kind of healing I needed in the moment.
I wanted to continue after the month-long introductory class, but at the time I was planning to buy a house. Every extra cent and second went into that process, and so I told myself I’d come back to it once I got settled. Then COVID happened. During that time, I fell and hurt my lower back. It took a year for me to feel steady on my feet again—even with simple movements.
Recently, I started thinking about taking a dance class again. I found a flamenco class through the Tacoma Urban Performing Arts Center in the Hilltop neighborhood. I took ballet when I was younger, but with age and injury, I didn’t feel confident in my body anymore. I wasn’t sure I was up for the adventure but I summoned my courage and went anyway.
Arriving at my first class, I felt a little intimidated. The group had been working together since September, which meant I’d be behind on the lessons. I was able to stay with them during the warm-ups but quickly got lost in the choreography. The large mirrors—present in every dance studio—always prove challenging for me. They ask me to face my struggle with accepting my body’s imperfections. I wasn’t sure I’d return.
I’ve been trying to push myself beyond self-consciousness and give energy to the spaces where people are kind and welcoming. The instructor and the other students were exactly that, so I decided to try one more class. Throughout the week, I found some basic flamenco instruction videos on YouTube to help me build confidence.
As we began the warm-ups in the next class, I found myself enjoying them, and I stopped listening to the negative comments in my head. The instructor was encouraging and patient. She talked about how we’ll add attitude into our movements as we grow in our abilities, and that we have to practice because we aren’t used to expressing emotion in that way. She’s right. It’s easy to get caught up in discomfort rather than allowing the feelings to flow out into the open—examining them, using them as energy for movement.
After the warm-ups, we practiced some choreography. We faced our partners, standing about two feet apart. The instructor reminded us to look into each other’s eyes as the music began. We mirrored each other in the three-count step. I wondered if our mirror neurons were being activated as I saw familiar things reflected in her eyes. An urge to look away. Holding eye contact for this long is not the norm in our culture, and it feels uncomfortable. It takes effort to maintain that kind of vulnerability. We showed up for each other despite our discomfort, and I felt grateful for her generosity—her willingness to hold space for my humanity and allow me to hold space for hers.
It was a transformative hour. When I went back into the world, I felt grounded, connected to compassion, and relaxed in my body. My new flamenco shoes arrived. I tried them on and practiced so that next week I’ll feel solid on my feet, ready to dance again.
The Tacoma Urban Performing Arts Center has a variety of classes for adults. More information can be found at tacomaupac.org.
