Mark Ballas & Whitney Leavitt’s “My Way” Freestyle: A Dance About Bullying, Healing & Truth

There are moments that don’t just happen — they settle somewhere deeper.

Last night, Mark Ballas and Whitney Leavitt performed their freestyle to “My Way” on Call Her Daddy, and it felt like one of those unexpected emotional hits that stays with you long after the screen goes dark. Gentle, vulnerable, and strangely healing — like someone finally exhaling after holding their breath for months.

And to understand why this moment mattered so much, you have to understand where Whitney came from.

During her time on Dancing With the Stars, she wasn’t just good — she was consistently great. Musicality, precision, presence… she delivered every single week. She even earned a 58 out of 60 — the second-highest score of the night — right before being eliminated.

And yet, despite the judges praising her, despite the undeniable talent, there was always this dark cloud looming behind her. A shadow that had nothing to do with her dancing and everything to do with the internet.

In the weeks leading up to her elimination, the public discourse was… honestly, disturbing.

Chronically online bullies banding together, encouraging people to vote for literally anyone but Whitney and Mark. People using a highly edited storyline from Secret Lives of Mormon Wives like a weapon.

The comment sections were full of strangers with pitchforks, and suddenly a dance competition became a referendum on a woman’s worth.

And for what?

For a storyline created in a producer’s editing bay?

For a version of her that wasn’t even real?

It spiraled to the point where even Mark — who had zero connection to that show or its drama — started getting hate simply for dancing beside her. Like… genuinely, what is wrong with people?

So watching them dance together again — not on a competitive stage, but in a space that allowed softness, vulnerability, and truth — felt different. It felt like a reclamation. A healing. A moment they chose for themselves instead of one handed to them by judges or online mobs.

I’m not going to recap the full Call Her Daddy interview here — there’s way too much depth in that conversation to squeeze into this space — but the emotional thread that ran through the entire episode was the same one stitched into their freestyle: being misunderstood, being scrutinized, being human in a world that sometimes forgets to act human back.

I planned to watch the dance once.

This morning, I’ve already watched it more than ten times, and somehow it hits harder each time.

It wasn’t just movement.

It was meaning.

When Softness Meets Scrutiny

Whitney has become one of those women the internet decides it “knows.”

And once the internet thinks it knows you, it doesn’t always treat you like a real human anymore.

Ever since Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, she’s carried the weight of being misrepresented — reduced to ten-second clips and dramatic edits designed for shock value. The line between “viewer” and “bully” blurred quickly.

People forget that reality TV is only real for the cameras.

People forget that a person’s entire life can’t be summed up in a storyline created for ratings.

But watching Whitney dance last night, she didn’t look like a storyline.

She looked like a woman reclaiming her soft strength after being punished for it.

There was a vulnerability in her eyes — not brokenness, but honesty. That quiet kind of courage that comes from being misunderstood and choosing to show up anyway.

“My Way” — A Soft Reclaiming of Her Own Narrative

Choosing “My Way” wasn’t accidental.

The song has always been about autonomy — about redefining yourself on your terms, not the internet’s, not the public’s, not a producer’s.

The way Whitney moved felt like she was peeling off the layers of assumption stuck to her by strangers online. There was something grounded about it. Something introspective. Something almost healing.

She wasn’t trying to prove anything. She was reclaiming something.

And the world needed to witness that — especially the people who forgot she’s allowed to be human.

A Friendship That Lifts You When the World Pushes You Down

Mark Ballas wasn’t just her partner in this performance.

He was her anchor.

There’s something sacred about adult friendship — about having someone who sees you clearly when the world insists on misunderstanding you. Watching him steady her, lift her, guide her… it felt symbolic.

Everyone deserves a friend who supports them through the noise.

Who reminds them of who they are.

Who stands beside them even when it's inconvenient or unpopular.

Seeing them dance together again — after everything — felt like a reclamation for both of them. A moment of choice, not obligation. A moment for them, not for judges or voters or viewers.

A moment of truth.

The Final Frame That Told the Hardest Truth

And then came the sign that has been burned into my brain since the moment I saw it:

“Social media is bad for your mental health.”

A simple statement.

A devastatingly accurate truth.

We scroll, compare, judge, dissect… often forgetting that the people on the screen are real.

We criticize with zero accountability.

We share opinions that wound.

We forget empathy exists.

Whitney’s experience is proof of the damage that can be done when strangers mistake entertainment for permission.

Her dance was not just art — it was a warning.

A gentle one.

A necessary one.

The Echo That Stayed With Me Long After the Music Stopped

I can’t explain why this freestyle hit me the way it did, but maybe that’s the point. Some moments don’t need analysis — they just need to be felt.

I get to define me.

It made me emotional. It made me reflective. It made me want to be kinder — both to myself and to the world around me.

I’ve watched it now more than ten times, and I know I’ll watch it ten more.

Because it wasn’t just a dance. It was a lesson. A reclamation. A reminder of how deeply words can cut — and how deeply truth can heal.

And honestly? I think we all needed that.