My good friend Geena, bless her soul, does not have a musical bone in her body. Yet that never stopped her from joining me on the dance floor. Time and time again, she would perform her signature move in which she began by shaking her head slowly and quickening her pace as the music built up until she was essentially just thrashing her neck back and forth violently – seriously, she even woke up one morning with whiplash from pulling her move so harshly the night before. As a kind stranger once put it, she looked like an awkward, possessed version of Willow Smith performing “Whip My Hair.”

Still, I will never forget or cease to love her spastic movement because I, like most others, grew up with many a friend who claimed they “couldn’t dance.” This was unacceptable to me. I repeatedly dragged their reluctant bodies out to the dance floor and forced them with irritating persistence to dance with me because I knew that the inability to dance is a lie.

I’ve been a competitive dancer for over a decade, but I know what real dancing is. Real dancing is when you surrender yourself to what you’re feeling and let that feeling move you. Everyone is capable of this complete submission to emotion, regardless of what objections are made. It’s just a question of whether you have the guts to put yourself out there, whether you feel comfortable enough with yourself to really be in some sense vulnerable. The way I see it, if you can move you can dance. Geena helped me realize that in reality we are all blessed with this gift of rhythm; some of us are just shyer about sharing it. You just need the confidence to show off your moves.

Geena never failed to do so at every party, and I loved her for it because all that mattered to her was having a good time. And I can guarantee you she had more fun than any girl sitting at a table complaining about not being able to dance. There is no rule that claims you have to be on time with the music to be able to dance. You don’t even necessarily need music. It’s all about enjoying and expressing yourself through movement, and everyone deserves the opportunity to do so-- to appreciate what it feels like to really dance.

So we must start to recognize our “inability to dance” as a farce, an  excuse utilized to conceal self-consciousness. Get rid of your inhibitions -- who needs those anyways? -- and let yourself go. I promise you’ll have more fun and feel more liberated than ever before, because dancing has that power.

Like I said, everyone has rhythm. It may be unique -- or not particularly in accordance with anyone around you, but what does that matter? If you truly listen to the unique rhythm inside of you and have the confidence to show it to the world, you will indisputably look and feel absolutely beautiful.