This Is Me: Dancing Into Authenticity as Neurodivergent, Queer, or Stigmatized

When I hear the song “This Is Me” from The Greatest Showman, my entire body feels alive. It’s more than music—it’s a powerful, unapologetic declaration of self. For anyone who’s ever been told to shrink, to mask, or to hide their truth—whether you’re autistic, queer, or simply different—this song is a reminder that who you are is more than enough.

And let me tell you something: dancing to this song in public felt AMAZING.

I’ve always loved movement. Dancing has been my way of connecting with my body, my emotions, my joy. But the culture we live in—the one that says we need to take lessons, perfect our technique, or perform for an audience—has tried to make us feel that we have to earn the right to move. Forget that.

You don’t need training or anyone’s approval to express yourself. Your body already knows what to do. Trust it. Let it move. Be awkward, quirky, sexy, silly—whatever it is that you’ve been holding back.

When I danced in public, there were no rehearsed steps, no polished performance—just me, fully alive, fully present, and unapologetically real. It wasn’t perfect, and that was the point. It was me.

Breaking Free from Hiding

As an autistic person and the daughter of a Mexican father who was transgender, I’ve spent most of my life learning how to hide. My dad lived in a time when being himself wasn’t safe. He had to mask every part of who he was, and though he never said it, I learned that same survival tactic.

I hid my queerness. I toned down my big personality. I tucked away my bold colors, my fidgets, my quirks—everything that made me me. Even in my own family, some of those parts of me felt “too much” or even “disgusting.”

But here’s the truth: hiding hurts. Locking away the most beautiful, vibrant parts of yourself is exhausting. Trauma work has helped me unlock those parts, and now that they’re free, I see how breathtaking they are.

When I hear “This Is Me,” it feels like an anthem for this journey. It reminds me that I don’t need to be anything other than who I already am.

The Circus of Belonging

I once had a client who was neurodivergent and deeply scarred by years of humiliation at school. They found solace in online gaming and later, in connecting with others who understood them. They were the first person who helped me see the beauty of The Greatest Showman.

“This movie is about finding your people,” they told me.

And they were so right. The characters in the movie, seen by society as “too different,” find a home in each other. P.T. Barnum’s circus becomes their refuge—a place where scars and quirks aren’t just accepted; they’re celebrated.

For so many of us, that’s the dream: to be seen, to be valued, and to know we belong.

I’ve been told my whole life that I’m part of a “circus act.” And now? I’m damn proud of it. Because here’s the thing: the circus is where the magic happens. It’s where we laugh too loudly, wear colors that don’t match, and dance like no one’s watching—even if everyone is.

The Courage to Be Seen

When Keala Settle belts out, “When the sharpest words wanna cut me down, I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out,” I feel that in my soul. Living authentically isn’t easy. There will always be people who want you to quiet down, dim your light, and blend in.

But every time you show up as your true self, you’re sending a message: This is who I am, and I will not be hidden.

It’s not always easy to be bold. Not everyone will accept your quirks, your scars, or your unapologetic self. But those who do? They’re your people. They’re the ones who see you, love you, and cheer you on—not in spite of your differences, but because of them.

Dare to Dance, Dare to Live

You don’t need to be a “perfect” dancer, artist, or performer to create something beautiful. American culture teaches us to be experts before we’re allowed to express ourselves—but that’s a lie. Your body, your voice, your creativity are already perfect just as they are.

So, go dance in public. Be awkward. Be messy. Be gloriously imperfect. Trust that your body knows how to move, your heart knows how to feel, and your soul knows how to shine.

I danced yesterday, fully me, and it was a revelation. I’m here to tell you: you can do the same.

If you’re ready to embrace your authentic self—to unpack the parts of you that have been locked away and finally let them shine—I’m here for you. At Equanimity Psychology Services, I specialize in working with neurodivergent, queer, and marginalized individuals who are tired of hiding and ready to live fully.

Let’s uncover the beauty you’ve been holding back. Visit www.EquanimityPsychologyServices.com to schedule a consultation or learn more about how I can support you.

To everyone who’s ever felt like they don’t belong: you do. Your quirks, your scars, your you-ness—they’re not flaws. They’re magic. So go ahead: dance like no one’s watching, laugh like it doesn’t matter, and live like you’ve got nothing to prove.

Because this is you. And you’re extraordinary.