Given Up on Dating? Maybe Try Dancing Instead
- Jools

- 17 minutes ago
- 7 min read
I hear a version of this surprisingly often from women who visit me:
"I've given up on dating."
Sometimes it’s said with a laugh. Sometimes with genuine frustration.
Too many dating apps. Too many time-wasters. Too many men saying they want a relationship when what they really want is sex. Too many conversations that seem promising and then disappear without explanation.
And while most of the conversations I have through my work are with women, plenty of men have become equally disillusioned with modern dating.
But there’s another frustration I hear too.
Sometimes someone does meet a person who seems genuine. They get on. There’s attraction. All the right things are said. Perhaps there's even plenty of confidence about how good the sex is going to be.
And then they actually get there.
Very little build-up. Very little anticipation. Barely any foreplay. Straight to sex, orgasm, done.
A clip of Paloma Faith talking about foreplay went viral. Her language was rather more colourful, but the underlying point was a good one: foreplay involves considerably more than spitting on your fingers.
It made me smile, but it also reminded me just how often I hear versions of the same complaint.
Being Sexually Confident Isn't the Same as Understanding Intimacy
We sometimes confuse sexual confidence with sexual competence.
Someone can have had lots of sex and still be remarkably poor at intimacy.
They can know what they want to do without being particularly good at noticing what the other person wants. They can be confident initiating sex but uncomfortable with sensuality. They can know how to reach an orgasm but have little understanding of anticipation, teasing, touch or simply taking their time.
And while the particular complaint above is one I hear predominantly from women about men, the principle works both ways.
Good intimacy isn't a performance you deliver to someone.
It's an interaction.
You notice.
You respond.
You try something and pay attention to the reaction.
You slow down when that feels right. You build anticipation rather than constantly trying to get to the next stage.
You enjoy the journey rather than rushing towards the destination.
While it’s certainly not the main reason everyone comes to Sensual Bodyworks, the absence of this kind of connection is something that comes up surprisingly often.
I meet women who haven't necessarily lost interest in sex or intimacy, but have become frustrated by what they've experienced. Sometimes they're single and tired of dating. Sometimes they're in relationships where sex has become predictable or mechanical. Others simply feel they've never really experienced what it is like for someone to slow down, pay attention, build anticipation and make the experience about connection rather than getting somewhere.
It may not be what initially brought them through the door, but for some, exploring sensual bodywork becomes partly about rediscovering that side of themselves: becoming comfortable with touch, noticing what they enjoy, communicating boundaries and experiencing intimacy without the pressure to perform or reciprocate.
It's one of the reasons I find the parallels with partner dancing so interesting. The setting is obviously very different, but many of the underlying skills are surprisingly similar: presence, communication, trust, awareness, responsiveness and learning to enjoy the moment rather than rushing towards an outcome.
Which, strangely enough, brings me to partner dancing.
Why I Sometimes Suggest Partner Dancing
I've developed something of an obsession with salsa over the last couple of years, so that's inevitably the example I use most often.
But it doesn't have to be Salsa. Bachata, Ceroc, Tango and other forms of partner dance all create slightly different versions of the same thing.
Two people learning to move together, communicate physically and respond to each other.
Increasingly I've found myself recommending partner dancing to single women who tell me they're fed up with dating. And much of the same advice applies to single men too.
I'm not suggesting replacing Tinder with a dance class.
The point isn't necessarily to go there looking for a partner.
In fact, that's partly what I like about it.
You walk into a room and interact with people without immediately having to decide whether they're potential relationship material.
You talk.
You laugh.
You make eye contact.
You ask someone to dance—or accept or decline an invitation.
You hold someone's hand.
You spend a few minutes physically connected to another human being and then say thank you and dance with somebody else.
There doesn't have to be an agenda.
For someone whose confidence has been battered by dating, that can be incredibly refreshing.
I've written separately about how learning to dance can improve your sex life, looking more deeply at what dance can teach us about confidence, body awareness, anticipation, touch and connection. But I think some of those benefits start long before you get anywhere near the bedroom.
What Might Someone Choosing to Dance Tell You?
There's another thought I've had more recently.
If someone voluntarily walks into a partner-dance class, does that tell you anything about them?
Not nearly enough to decide whether you should date them, obviously.
There are wonderful and terrible people everywhere, and being able to execute a perfect cross-body lead certainly isn't evidence of emotional intelligence.
But perhaps choosing to learn partner dance tells you something.
They're choosing an activity where they have to express themselves physically.
They're willing to learn something they probably aren't immediately good at.
They have to interact with strangers and risk someone declining an invitation to dance.
They have to become comfortable with appropriate physical closeness.
And, importantly, they have to pay attention to another person's body and how it responds.
I originally found myself thinking about this in relation to men.
A man choosing to learn salsa, bachata or another partner dance has voluntarily put himself in an environment that asks him to express himself, connect physically and pay attention to another person's movement. None of that guarantees he'll be sensual, attentive or emotionally available in a relationship.
But those aren't bad qualities to start with.
And increasingly I realised the same argument can apply the other way around.
For a man dating, meeting a woman who is comfortable expressing herself, communicating physically, being playful and connecting with another person may tell him something too.
Not whether she's right for him.
Just something that a photograph and three lines on a dating profile can't.
Learning to Lead—and Learning to Listen
Partner dance also teaches something I find particularly interesting.
You can't simply decide what you want to happen and expect the other person to somehow know.
A good lead is an invitation.
You communicate something, feel the response and adapt.
You can't just drag your partner through the moves you want to perform.
Equally, following isn't simply being passive. A good follower is present, responsive and bringing their own movement and expression to the dance.
Both people contribute.
Come to think of it, that's not a bad lesson for the bedroom either.
Dance Doesn't Guarantee Someone Will Be a Good Lover
I should probably make this very clear. Being a good dancer doesn't mean someone will be a good lover.
Nor does dancing make somebody kind, faithful, emotionally available or interested in a relationship.
But look at some of the qualities partner dancing encourages:
Presence.
Confidence without force.
Clear invitation.
Awareness of another person's body.
Sensitivity to response.
Rhythm.
Playfulness.
Comfort with touch.
The ability to lead without controlling.
The ability to follow without becoming passive.
Those are remarkably useful qualities in intimacy too.
And even if the person you're dancing with possesses none of them yet, they're at least in an environment where they're being encouraged to learn them.
Perhaps Dating Apps Aren't the Best Place to Learn About Someone
Dating apps are incredibly efficient at presenting information.
Age. Height. Job. Interests. Photos. Whether somebody wants children. Whether they supposedly want a relationship.
What they're much less good at revealing is how someone feels to be around:
Do they make eye contact?
Can they laugh at themselves?
Are they comfortable in their own body?
Do they respect boundaries?
Can they cope gracefully with rejection?
Do they pay attention to another person?
Can they be physically close without immediately making that closeness sexual?
Those things can take several dates to discover.
Put two people on a dance floor and you may start seeing some of them within minutes.
Again, it's not a compatibility test.
But it's a very different way of getting to know people.
The Bigger Benefit Might Actually Be You
There's a danger in making all of this about finding a better man—or woman.
Because even if you never meet anyone you want to date at a dance class, I think there can be another benefit:
You change.
You become more comfortable walking into a room where you don't know everybody.
You become more accustomed to talking to strangers.
You make more eye contact.
You learn to ask someone to dance and risk hearing no.
You learn to say yes when you'd like to dance and no when you wouldn't.
You become comfortable with appropriate touch and physical closeness.
You learn what it feels like when somebody communicates clearly and respectfully—and what it feels like when they don't.
You become more aware of your own body.
And perhaps most importantly,
you experience connection without needing it to go anywhere.
That can be particularly powerful if dating has started to feel like a succession of interviews, disappointments and negotiations.
Maybe Don't Try So Hard to Date
So when someone tells me they've given up on dating, I'm not necessarily going to tell them they need to get back on the apps.
Maybe having a break is exactly what they need.
But giving up on dating doesn't have to mean giving up on meeting people, flirting, connection, touch or that lovely feeling of chemistry with another human being.
Go and do something that puts you around people.
Something playful.
Something that gets you out of your head and back into your body.
For me, salsa happens to tick an awful lot of those boxes. For you it might be bachata, Ceroc, tango or something else entirely.
You might meet someone. You might not.
But perhaps that's not the most important part.
You might rediscover the confidence, playfulness and sensuality that dating had slowly knocked out of you.
And when someone worth dating eventually does come along, perhaps you'll be in a much better place to recognise, and enjoy, the difference.



