🥢 Sure, Let’s Add Nunchucks
Why everyone needs their own ridiculous, freeing, bruised-up moment
When I was younger — and a lot more bendy and questionable in my decision-making — I found myself in a dance studio, holding PVC nunchucks, getting ready to perform to Janet Jackson.
Yes. You read that right.
There was choreography. Rhythm. Spinning sticks. And me, just trying not to hit myself in the face.
It wasn’t my idea. A choreographer threw it into the mix like, “You got this!” And because I clearly lacked boundaries at the time, I just... nodded.
But here’s what no one tells you about dancing with nunchucks: if you miss one beat, one spin, one catch — you don’t just mess up. You get hit. Hard. In the arm. In the ribs. In places nunchucks should never go.
By the end, I looked like I lost a fight with a fax machine.
And yet… it was kind of amazing.
It’s now one of those stories that makes people tilt their head, laugh, and go:
“Wait, you did what?”
And that reaction? That’s when I know I’ve hit something real.
The Moment It Shifted
Somewhere between the bruises and the bass drop, I realized something:
I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t judging. I wasn’t “performing.”
I was in it — awkward, sweaty, off-beat, and wildly alive.
And that’s when it hit me: I had stopped asking, “Do I look ridiculous?” And started asking, “Do I feel like me?”
Mirror vs. Audience: The Weird Switch
Here’s something else that surprised me: Some of the trickier moves — like catching the nunchucks behind my back — were actually easier when I could watch myself in the mirror.
The reflection helped me anticipate, track, correct. But take the mirror away? Stare into an audience instead?
Suddenly, the easy moves felt harder — like my body forgot what to do. And weirdly, the hard moves? The ones I had to feel, not see — those became easier.
Funny how that works, right?
The moment I stopped performing for the mirror and started trusting my body — something shifted. Not just in my movement, but in how I showed up.
Everyone Needs a “Nunchucks to Janet Jackson” Moment
We’ve all been taught to self-edit.
To split ourselves into compartments:
“This part of me is professional.”
“This part is too much.”
“This part doesn’t belong.”
But sometimes, the magic happens when you mash it all together — the weird, the wild, the unexpected.
That’s where power lives. That’s where you live.
🎥 Real Ones Doing It (Yes, This is a Thing)
This isn’t just a one-off story. People actually do this — and they’re incredible. A few of my favorite examples:
👉 YouTube Short: Nunchaku freestyle with flair
Watch them. Let your jaw drop. Then realize: they’re not chasing perfection — they’re in their element.
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Play
Your Turn
So here’s my invitation to you:
🌀 What’s your “nunchucks-to-Janet” moment?
That experience that:
Felt too weird to explain
Made no sense to anyone else
Left you a little bruised but a lot more you
Maybe it was karaoke. Maybe it was starting a business you had no qualifications for. Maybe it was saying “no” for the first time.
Whatever it was — own it. That’s your entry point to confidence that doesn’t need permission.
đź’¬ Share It With Me
If you’ve got a video, a story, or even just a memory of your own “nunchuck” moment — I want to see it.
Post it. Tag me. Or just DM it with the subject line: “Yep, I did the thing.”
Let’s stop waiting to be perfect. Let’s start celebrating the beautifully weird.
You don’t need a stage. Or real nunchucks. Just a little courage. And maybe some Janet.
đź› Want to Go Deeper?
This kind of story is the foundation of the work I do — helping people integrate their “too much,” “too weird,” and “too late” parts into one powerful, unapologetic version of themselves.
Coaching isn’t about fixing. It’s about un-editing.
If you’re ready to find your rhythm — bruises, beats, and all — let’s talk.