I’ve taken to walking around in a bra a lot. It’s a nice bra, I promise, either silver sequined with matching coins dangling off the edge or a pretty red silk one beaded with purple. Whenever Stanford has one of it’s massive activities fairs, I show up in costume wearing one of the bra tops and a sheer skirt or pants, eager to recruit new members to join one of the best parts of my college experience.

If you’d told me in high school I’d be comfortable walking around half-naked in front of hundreds of people, I’d have laughed my ass off. I’ve always been pretty comfortable in my own skin, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been okay with feeling that exposed. That only happened once I started dancing.

You often hear horror stories about dancers who succumb to eating disorders to conform to a certain expectation. Thankfully, that hasn’t been the case in belly dancing. Women who belly dance often have, you know, a belly. I’m kind of kidding, but belly dancers have historically been women who are curvy and would even be considered “fat” by our standards of beauty.

Modern belly dancers come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. While there are some people who expect belly dancers to look a certain way now that it has become more Westernized, the number is dramatically fewer than those in, say, ballet. In a recent study by psychologists from Flinders University, researchers found that belly dancers had a better body image on average than other types of dancers and non-dancing women.

The secret to this might be that belly dancers dance for themselves. Yes, it can be considered an exotic and sensual art form, but many women who participate do it because it helps them discover and celebrate what their bodies can do. It’s pretty amazing. Undulations help stretch your spine, your legs build muscles from hip movements, your core is strengthened by isolations because only part of your body is moving at a time. You can feel sexy, playful, dramatic, and glamorous all while having fun and exercising.

I joined the troupe Akasma Bellydance my freshman year at Stanford with no experience. I showed up and hoped for the best. Thankfully, they decided I had potential and I got to join. It was intimidating at first to see all these beautiful women dancing around me and then look in the mirror and realize I didn’t look like that, especially not while dancing. But I stuck to it, I improved, and I started to enjoy it. I forgot to look in the mirror and didn't compare my body to the other girls. I instead noticed things that were more important in a dance group, like when I started a count too early or when my hands started to droop.

I do remember that I was terrified the first time I put on a costume. Not only was this my first performance, but the costume also left very little to the imagination. By the time I had it on, though, I stopped caring about how my body looked. The costume was beautiful and it made me feel like a real dancer. I was still freaking out about messing up, but I don’t think that is going away any time soon.

I’m grateful for belly dancing. I see and hear stories and statistics about how many women are unhappy with their bodies. It’s heartbreaking. If you’re looking for confidence or a fun workout, try belly dancing, even if you’ve never danced, even if you don’t think you’re coordinated, even if the last thing you want to do is stand in a room with women that can move like Shakira. Belly dancing is for people of all ages and body types and more importantly, it helps people love themselves. So what if you what if you have a tummy? That means there’s just more of you to shimmy.