In the workplace, just as on the dance floor, chemistry, communication, and trust can make or break a partnership. When we’re trying to move in sync with others, whether that’s in a waltz, a meeting, or a new project, our stress levels often rise and fall depending on how safe, valued, and connected we feel.
This story from my archives, written 15 years ago in 2010, looks at the psychology of partnership through the lens of ballroom dancing. It’s about cortisol, connection, and what happens when our need for synchrony gets tangled with emotion, expectation, and social norms.
As you read, think about your own partnerships at work, who helps you move with ease, and who throws you off balance?
From the Doctor Dance Archive (2010)
“Tell your Husband, I just want to dance with you.”
A couple of years ago I considered becoming a competition ballroom dancer. Even though I’d read the research which shows that competition ballroom dancing can lead to serious increases in the stress hormone cortisol* I wanted to experience the competitive world for myself. The published research had found that stress levels went up during competition day. I found that competitive ballroom dancing could make stress levels go up a long time before competition day.
The first thing I had to do was find a partner. This should be easy, or so I thought. I’m virtually six foot tall – okay I’m 5 foot 11 and three quarters, I’m good on my feet – I’m an ex-professional dancer, and I was prepared to spend time and money on rehearsals, coaches and costumes. I placed ads on a couple of dance-based partner-finding websites and I started to brush up on my technique.
The first woman to call me sounded great. We spoke on the phone and decided to meet. I wanted to meet in a dance studio but she wanted to meet in a cafe. She said that chemistry was important to her and that she wanted to make sure we were compatible before we started to dance. As this was all new to me I agreed and we met for tea. After our third cup it became clear that we were never going to dance. She had a son who was the same age, height and build as me, whom she hadn’t seen for several years and who she missed terribly. She had taught her son to dance when he was younger and they used to dance the cha cha cha on Sundays after lunch. She told me that dancing with her son was one of her happiest memories and, it eventually transpired, she wanted to dance with me so that she could recapture the physical sensation of those memories.
The second woman to call sounded great. We spoke on the phone and decided to meet. We met at a social dance where we danced the Viennese waltz and then we met the following week to start training. “Oh”, she said, as we swapped contact details, “Don’t call my home number after 6pm or at weekends, I haven’t told my husband about you yet”. When I met her again she told me that everything was now fine with her husband. They’d had a huge row but she’d told him I was gay and therefore everything was fine about us sharing a hotel room for a couple of days together when we compete in Blackpool. “But I’m not gay”, I said. She moved her gurning face very close to mine and in her sexiest voice said “I know that, and you know that, but we don’t need to spoil the fun by telling my husband that”.
The third woman to call sounded great. We spoke on the phone and decided to meet. After several emails we decided to meet at a professional dance studio that was a two-hour drive from my home. The email and phone contact we’d had was faulous. We’d had similar backgrounds in dance, we were about the same age, we both seemed to have a young and loving family and our motives were shared and appropriate. I took the drive to meet her and a professional coach. She walked into the studio and I saw her smiling face turn to a grimace as she saw me. She looked like she’d vomited a small amount of bile into her mouth and had to swallow it again. The coach suggested we try a waltz. We got no further than a whisk and chasse before she looked at the coach and gently shock her head. We had met for no more than two minutes before I had to start my two-hour drive home. She found me repulsive.
Finding a competitive partner was tricky, so I changed my requirements. I needed to find someone who didn’t find me repulsive, someone with whom I’d be happy to share a hotel room, and someone who lived close enough so that I didn’t have to make a four hour drive every time I wanted to dance. I found my perfect partner lying next to me in bed one morning. My wife didn’t want to enter the stressful world of competitive ballroom dancing, but she did want to learn all the ballroom and Latin dances and she did want to dance with me. So now we dance together all the time and my stress levels have gone down and my contentedness and happiness have gone as a high as a competitive ballroom dancer’s cortisol levels.
Dr Peter Lovatt
February 2010
Looking back fifteen years later, I can see that this story wasn’t just about ballroom dancing, it was about the psychology of partnership. Whether on the dance floor or in the workplace, the same principles apply: when we communicate clearly, trust our partners, regulate our emotions, and move with empathy, stress goes down and connection goes up. That’s the STEP Framework in action: Social, Thinking, Emotion, and Physical, helping us find harmony in every kind of dance, from the tango to teamwork.
*Rohleder, N., Beulen, S. E., Chen, E., Wolf, J. M. & Kirschbaum, C. (2007). Ballroom Dancers Stress on the Dance Floor: The Cortisol Stress Response to Social-Evaluative Threat in Competitive Ballroom Dancrs. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 33, 69-84.
Dr Peter Lovatt
AKA Doctor Dance
13 October 2025
Contact: lindsey@doctordance.com
