A professional dancer, devoted lover of movement, and founder of online community BODYLOVE, Kayla grew up in dance and has always felt that movement was the clearest portal back to herself. She spent her entire youth training to become a professional dancer, eventually building a vibrant 10+ year career doing exactly that, and yet beneath every epic credit and accolade has always been the same thing: she just really, really loves to dance - the way movement brings her home to herself.
In a world that is hellbent on separating women from their bodies and deeper truths, Kayla wanted to light the way home for other women, too - to create a space where we could use the art form of dance to meet ourselves again.
BODYLOVE is dance as a way home to yourself. Dance as a way to uncover yourself. Dance as a way to meet - and fully inhabit - the most empowered version of yourself.
Meet Kayla
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bra
I have been dancing since I was two years old. I know that sounds crazy, but truly - I was instantly obsessed because of the pink tutus, and then I just… never stopped.
Dance has been the rhythm, the anchor, and the wings of my life. It has carried me through every heartbreak, setback, good day, bad day, you name it. I am so deeply in love with this art form - not only because of how fun and exhilarating it is, but because movement feels like the language my soul was born speaking.
I hear stories all the time from women who once loved dancing, but stopped. Maybe it was a toxic dance teacher. Maybe it was the experience of training five days a week in a leotard and pink tights while staring at themselves in a mirror. Body dysmorphia, self-doubt, and constant comparison are gnarly, ever-present shadows in the dance world, and they have stolen more dreams from young dancers than we could ever count.
Those stories break my heart, because for me, dance has taught me more about self-love than anything else in my life.
Kayla wearing Venus Bustier and Thong
When I was 13, I was desperate to fit in with middle-school friends who would purge after eating. One night, I gave throwing up my dinner a solid attempt. Long story short: my parents found out immediately.
My dad, an extremely fit and health-conscious chiropractor, sat me down and laid out what eating disorders could actually do to my body - brittle bones, muscle deterioration, injury. Then he put it into the one language he knew would get through to me:
“If these things happen to you, you won't physically be able to dance. Your body won't be able to support you anymore. You will lose dance.”
That landed, fortunately.
Suddenly, I understood that if I wanted dance in my life for a long time - if I wanted to live these enormous dreams I had and stay close to this thing I loved so dearly - I had to ruthlessly protect the vessel that allowed me to do it in the first place.
If I wanted to be a dancer, I also had to become a lover to my body.
I had to treat her well. Nourish her. Let her rest. Keep her strong, even when the aesthetic of the moment was skinny AF.
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bodysuit
And something deeply beautiful happened along the way: the more I showed up for my body because of dance, the more I began to understand that this level of care and intention was what my body had always deserved - because it was what I had always deserved. From myself.
So when the winds of body trends inevitably changed - from heroin chic, to big booties, to being “thicc,” and onward - I found that I wasn't particularly interested in chasing them. I didn't want to spend my life contorting myself into whatever shape the world had decided was desirable that year.
I had learned to ask different questions:
What is healthy for me?
What serves my wellbeing long-term?
What does my body actually need?
And my body wasn't the only thing dance taught me to love and protect. It taught me to protect my mind, my sense of self, and my belief in who I am.
Because even my deep love for dance couldn't shield me from the absolutely insane demands of what it takes to “make it” as a professional dancer in Hollywood.
Kayla wearing Venus Bustier and Thong
I moved to Los Angeles when I was 17 and started auditioning professionally at 18 - before I even knew how to properly do my own makeup.
There were days I spent nine full hours auditioning, surviving round after round of cuts, watching the room get smaller as the dream got closer. And then, in the final round, after dancing with every ounce of passion I had, with the job feeling just within reach—
“Thank you so much.”
Cut.
My heart would drop like a stone into my belly.
And let me tell you something: the drive home from those auditions is where my confidence was built.
Not in the room when everyone loved me.
On the drive home when they didn't choose me.
That's where my belief in myself was built. That's where loving myself actually mattered.
Kayla wearing Cirsi Corset & Bikini
Confidence is built in the trenches.
Confidence is built on the drive home, when you can either dissect every tiny thing you might have done wrong - or decide that you did your best, you're still fucking talented, and you're getting up tomorrow to try again.
It's built when you look at yourself in a mirror surrounded by hundreds of other beautiful, talented women, feel the temptation to disappear into comparison, and instead choose to see your own beauty and worth without requiring theirs to become smaller.
That, to me, is the difference between performing confidence and actually inhabiting it.
Performing confidence needs the room to agree with you. It needs the compliment, the booking, the validation, the perfect outfit, the proof.
Inhabited confidence belongs to you before anyone else gets a vote.
Do it enough times, and eventually you don't have to perform being the woman who believes in herself.
You become her. (Slay!!)
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bra and Thong
If someone has never used movement as a form of self-love, where do they begin?
If you told me you wanted to be a DANCER, you and I would embark on a planned, intensive training protocol.
But if you told me you just want to DANCE?
Well babe, we can do that right now.
Dancing, at its core, is moving energy. It’s connecting inward and expressing outward. You don’t need technique, choreography, a studio, or even a particularly good sense of rhythm to experience that.
Here’s something you can try today:
Step one: Get somewhere private. Your bedroom, your apartment, anywhere you won’t be bothered - or perceived. Personally, I love a closed door lol. Removing the possibility of being watched also removes the temptation to perform.
Step two: Set the mood. Is this necessary? No. Do I love a ritual? Absolutely. Dim the lights. Light a candle. Sage some shit. Make the space feel like yours.
Step three: Headphones on. Choose music that speaks to where you actually are today - not where you think you should be.
Choose hype if you need a five-minute dance party in your room. Wiggle, twerk, shake, shimmy, throw your hair around, and remind yourself that you are THAT BITCH.
Choose soul time if you're carrying some sticky energy or heaviness that needs your attention.
Step four: Drop into your body. Sit, stand, lie down - whatever feels good. Close your eyes. Take a few deep belly breaths and see if you can travel out of your head, through your heart, and down into the wisdom of your body. Notice what’s there.
Step five: Let it move. And this is the important part: it does not have to look like anything. Wiggle your fingers and toes. Stretch. Sway. Roll around. Expand. Contract. Shake something. Let your body decide what comes next.
There is no right or wrong here. There is nothing to achieve and nobody to impress.
Maybe that’s the first little act of self-love: allowing your body to be something you listen to, rather than something you’re constantly trying to control, improve, shrink, shape, or make perform for somebody else.
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bodysuit
What's the most healing thing dance has ever done for you?
Dance allows me to take the elevator from my head, down through my heart, and into my body.
Simply put: dance gets me out of my mind and into my knowing.
I love therapy. I journal all the time. But as someone who naturally leans toward overthinking and over-functioning, sometimes the last thing I need is another thought.
Sometimes I don't need to think or talk about how I feel.
I just need to feel how I feel.
Dance gives me that pathway. No words necessary.
I was once in a relationship that wasn't the greatest and wasn't the worst. It was… fine. And I stayed in it for four years.
I journaled endlessly about it. I talked about it in therapy. I turned it over and over in my mind, trying desperately to find the “answer”: Is this it? Is this my person? Or is it not?
My mind could go in circles forever.
Then one weekend, I was home alone and decided to put on music, close the door, feel, and move.
A song came on, and somehow, without consciously deciding to, I began moving through what it would feel like to leave my relationship.
Not thinking about leaving. Feeling it.
I let my body move through the grief. I let her move through the fear and confusion. And when the song ended, I felt lighter.
I felt freer.
And I knew.
There wasn't an argument. There wasn't a pros-and-cons list. I just knew this relationship wasn't the one for me.
I broke up with him a week later.
Surprise: he wasn't the one lol.
What years of talking, journaling, and thinking couldn't sort out, dance helped me access in the span of one song.
The mind wants evidence; the body often already knows.
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bra and Thong
Dancewear and lingerie both sit close to the body. Do you feel any similarities?
One of my main requirements for anything I wear while dancing is that it has to be comfortable and malleable enough to let me MOVE. I don't want any feelings of restriction or discomfort pulling me out of my body when I'm trying to fully inhabit it.
The same goes for lingerie. I want it to feel like a second skin - a beautiful, natural extension of me - while still giving me the freedom to move however I want to move.
And truly, unprompted plug here, but this is one of the reasons I love Thistle & Spire. The pieces are GORGEOUS, but I can also actually move in them. I don't feel like I'm putting on something beautiful and then suddenly have to become precious or posed inside of it.
Because when I can move freely, I can express freely.
And when I can express freely, I'm me. :)
Kayla wearing Cirsi Corset & Bikini
Lingerie is often associated with being looked at. Can it be something you wear for yourself?
YES - and the latter wayyyyy more than the former!
Also, can we please not sleep on our own gaze? If beautiful lingerie is designed to be looked at, well then damn, I wanna look at myself.
So much about women's beauty, bodies, and sexuality has historically been framed around how we are received by someone else.
But what about the woman who actually lives inside all of those things?
What about you, first?
What about doing your makeup because you love the ritual of it?
Exploring your sexuality in ways that make you feel more alive?
Putting on the lingerie, catching yourself in the mirror, and enjoying the absolute hell out of your own reflection?
There is something powerful about becoming both the woman experiencing herself and the woman appreciating what she sees.
Yeah it's cute to wear lingerie for someone else, but it's SIGNIFICANT to wear it for yourself. PURR!
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bra and Thong
Do you think lingerie can be a form of self-expression in the same way dance is?
Absolutely! Lingerie is wearable art.
Just like dance, clothing, or your overall aesthetic, it can be a way of bringing something that lives inside of you to the surface. It can enhance the story you want to tell, amplify an energy you're already feeling, or simply give you another way to express your essence.
Wear the art, because you are art.
And sometimes, putting on something spicy activates a little spice you didn't even know you had - which is a very fun way to discover new parts of yourself.
Honestly, I fully support wearing the thing you look at and think, “Oh, that could NEVER be me.”
Because... what if it is?
What if you put it on, look in the mirror, and suddenly meet a version of yourself you didn't even know was in there?
Who is she?!
She's exactly who she thinks she is, that's who.
Kayla wearing Star Gazer Bra and Thong
When you feel most at home in your body, what are you wearing?
Honestly, it can look like a lot of things.
I feel at home in my body in baggy sweats and an oversized hoodie. I feel at home naked. I feel at home in beautiful lingerie. I feel at home in anything that lets me move, breathe, and exist without constantly reminding me that I'm wearing it.
I think that's actually the common thread: I feel most at home in my body when what I'm wearing feels like an extension of me, rather than a costume for who I think I'm supposed to be.
So maybe feeling at home in my body has less to do with what I'm wearing and more to do with whether I still feel like myself inside of it.
Sometimes that's something beautiful and barely there.
Sometimes it's nothing at all.
And sometimes, babe, it's the biggest t-shirt I can find.
Home is wherever I don't have to perform.
Follow Kayla @kaylabrenda
Learn more about BODYLOVE
Photography by Lume Photography
