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The Business of Ecstasy

In this essay13 sections
  1. 01 A Safe Space for Whom?
  2. 02 Searching for Relief
  3. 03 The First Rupture
  4. 04 Bodywork, Boundaries and Betrayal
  5. 05 Seeking Accountability
  6. 06 Safety Without Due Process
  7. 07 Whose Safety Counts?
  8. 08 The Commodification of Connection
  9. 09 The Labour Behind the Liberation
  10. 10 The Responsibility of Holding Space
  11. 11 Who Holds the Space Holder Accountable?
  12. 12 When Inner Work Replaces Accountability
  13. 13 A Public Space, Privately Governed

Power, vulnerability and exclusion at Ecstatic Dance UK

A Safe Space for Whom?

I came to ecstatic dance at a vulnerable moment in my life. I had recently received my neurodivergent diagnoses and was also dealing with the aftermath of a business insolvency. I was looking for movement, connection and relief. At first, Ecstatic Dance UK seemed to offer exactly that: an embodied, welcoming environment that presented itself as a safe and sacred space for release and belonging.

What drew me in was not just the dancing. It was the promise of community. Spaces like this appear to offer an escape from the emotional isolation, pressure and alienation of ordinary life. But my experience gradually made me question whether that sense of freedom was matched by genuine accountability. What felt communal on the dance floor seemed, underneath, to be privately governed by informal power, personal relationships and commercial interests.

Searching for Relief

I found ecstatic dance during a period of exhaustion, shame and disorientation. After my ADHD and Autism diagnoses and the collapse of my business, I was trying to rebuild some connection with myself and with other people. The dance seemed to offer a way to be present in my body without having to explain myself too much.

This is part of why spaces like this matter. They do not simply offer entertainment. They often attract people who are grieving, burnt out, lonely, traumatised or otherwise in search of somewhere to feel held. That makes the ethical standards of such spaces more important, not less.

The First Rupture

My first troubling experience in the community happened in summer 2024, when I became involved with a dancer who expressed unusually intense affection very quickly. She wrote things like “you could be the love of my life” and described me as one of the most remarkable people she had met. At first this felt deeply moving. Later, I came to see it as part of a pattern of love-bombing, boundary-testing and abrupt withdrawal that left me confused and destabilised. perplexity

When the dynamic shifted, she acted as though she did not know me, and I later saw her openly making out on the dance floor with Neil McDonald, the Bath House’s previous manager. The experience triggered my first panic attacks and pushed me into such distress that I abruptly flew to Portugal to stay with my parents.

Bodywork, Boundaries and Betrayal

The second experience was even more serious. I had a brief relationship with another dancer who presented herself publicly as a UKCP psychotherapy trainee. In my account, the relationship involved intense idealisation, future-faking, triangulation, jealousy induction, ambiguity, and the use of personal vulnerabilities I had disclosed in confidence. perplexity

I also consented to a bodywork exercise because I understood her to be acting in a professional training context, which made me believe ethical safeguards applied. Later, I felt that my concerns were denied, reframed or turned back on me, and the psychological aftermath was severe: panic, sleep disturbance, mistrust, social withdrawal and suicidal thoughts.

Seeking Accountability

Because of the role of represented therapeutic identity and boundaries, I made a formal complaint to the UK Council for Psychotherapy. My concern was not simply that a relationship had ended badly. It was that professional status, body-based practice, therapeutic framing and blurred boundaries all appeared to form part of the context in which harm occurred.

I also raised concerns directly with Richard Batts, who organises Ecstatic Dance UK, describing the behaviour as deceptive and manipulative. My impression was that he treated it as ordinary relationship drama rather than a serious issue requiring reflection or independent attention.

Safety Without Due Process

After a dance on 29 July, Richard Batts told me I was no longer welcome at his events because three women did not feel safe with me present and would boycott if I attended. I was not given any meaningful details, evidence or real opportunity to respond, and I recall him saying that he had known some of the women for years and that a boycott would be bad for the business. perplexity

That contrast is central to why this story matters. When I raised concerns about behaviour that had seriously affected my mental health, I was encouraged to let it go. When concerns were later raised about me, exclusion was immediate and final.

Whose Safety Counts?

Another troubling point is the apparent inconsistency regarding Neil McDonald. I understand that some women asked Richard not to allow Neil to attend the dances, but as far as I know no comparable action followed. I cannot say why that was. But the contrast matters.

Neil was the Bath House’s former manager and part of the venue’s wider social network, whereas I had no comparable status, influence or usefulness within the community. In practice, that means some people may carry more social capital than others, and that difference can shape whose presence is tolerated and whose is expendable.

The Commodification of Connection

This is where a broader political reading becomes important. Ecstatic dance may feel anti-hierarchical, but it still operates within a social and economic structure. Tickets are sold, reputations are built, roles are offered, services are promoted and volunteers contribute labour in exchange for limited material reward or future opportunity. perplexity

The space can begin to resemble a marketplace in which belonging, visibility and emotional openness all acquire value. The contradiction is that a community can feel collective while still being privately controlled.

The Labour Behind the Liberation

The event depends on more than the organiser and the DJ. It depends on everyone who helps create the atmosphere, everyone who promotes it, everyone who works behind the scenes, and everyone who contributes the energy that makes the event desirable. Participants are not just customers. They are also part of what produces the value of the event. perplexity

That is why the use of volunteers and unpaid or lightly compensated labour matters. A space that presents itself as liberating or community-oriented should still be open to questions about who benefits materially from the labour, care and aspiration of others.

The Responsibility of Holding Space

That issue becomes sharper because the dance can place people in unusually open or psychologically receptive states. Research on conscious and ecstatic dance links these practices to altered or trance-like states, emotional release and heightened feelings of connection. Ecstatic Dance UK itself presents the event as a sacred and healing environment. academia

That does not mean participants lose agency, but it does mean organisers should recognise that people may be especially vulnerable, emotionally exposed or suggestible in such a setting. Trauma-informed facilitation guidance emphasises awareness of power dynamics, trust, transparency and clear boundaries in exactly these kinds of environments. nonprofitlearninglab

Who Holds the Space Holder Accountable?

Richard Batts describes himself not as a spiritual leader but as a “space holder.” But titles do not remove power. If one person controls access, shapes culture, handles complaints and decides who belongs, then that role carries serious responsibility.

With that power should come self-awareness, restraint, conflict-of-interest management and a refusal to use vulnerable spaces for personal, social or financial advantage. My concern is that in this case the language of care and safety may have obscured a lack of accountability rather than ensured it.

When Inner Work Replaces Accountability

The wider problem is not just personal. Alternative and spiritual communities often attract people during vulnerable periods of their lives, and they can provide real relief. But they can also become spaces where criticism is deflected back onto the individual, where “What is your responsibility in this?” replaces serious reflection on power, and where spiritual language is used to normalise dynamics that would look more troubling if described plainly.

In that sense, the issue is not only what happened to me. It is what happens when healing, belonging and consciousness are commodified without adequate safeguards.

A Public Space, Privately Governed

The Bath House is not just any venue. It is a council-owned site operated in the language of community benefit and inclusion. That makes the public-interest dimension stronger. When recurring private events use a public or community-framed space, there should be questions about governance, fairness and accountability.

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