The one-sided shoulder shrug is one of my favourite body language movements to observe. It’s subtle, almost fleeting, but its potential meaning is anything but small. This gesture typically occurs when someone briefly lifts just one shoulder rather than both.
Unlike the more common double-shoulder shrug, which often conveys uncertainty or a lack of knowledge (“I don’t know” or “I don’t care”), the one-sided shrug can suggest something deeper.
It may reflect ambivalence, an internal conflict, or even a hint of insincerity, perhaps a sign that what the person is saying doesn’t entirely align with how they feel.
I’ve been watching I’m a Celebrity (purely for the fascinating media analysis, of course!), and I spotted this gesture during Dean’s eviction episode. As he spoke about his highlights from his time in the jungle, the one-sided shrug made a brief appearance.
What could it mean in that context?
Maybe Dean was downplaying his emotions or felt conflicted, proud of his experiences yet relieved to be leaving. Or perhaps the movement unconsciously revealed a hint of discomfort or even self-doubt about what he was sharing.
Whatever the case, the one-sided shrug adds a layer of complexity to his words, hinting at emotions that might not have been fully verbalised.
This small gesture is a reminder that body language often speaks volumes, even when the words don’t tell the whole story.
Keep an eye out for it in your interactions, it’s a fascinating glimpse into what might be going on beneath the surface…
The Foxtrot Fumble…
For the past two years, we’ve been learning to ballroom dance, a journey filled with spins, steps, and the occasional stumble. On Saturday, we attended a ball, marking our at least seventh time dancing in this kind of setting. It was an evening of enjoyment, music, and, of course, dancing.
But then came Sunday. While scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled across a video of us in mid-flow, gliding (or attempting to) through a Foxtrot. And let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.
My body language said it all. My head was down, my posture was rubbish, and every nervous stumble seemed to amplify how unsure I felt. It wasn’t just my dancing on display, it was a direct window into how I was feeling inside.
That’s the fascinating thing about body language: if you know what to look for, it reveals what’s really going on beneath the surface.
In my case, my slouched posture shouted a lack of confidence, my downward gaze mirrored my self-doubt, and my hesitations on the floor reflected how unsure I felt about the steps. While I wasn’t saying a word, my body was telling the whole story loud and clear: I haven’t mastered the Foxtrot.
There’s something about this dance that throws me every time. Maybe it’s the tempo, the precision, or my own mental block. Whatever the reason, the Foxtrot seems to have my number, and it’s not giving up without a fight.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in two years of dancing, it’s that progress isn’t linear. For every polished Waltz or joyful Cha-Cha, there’s a Foxtrot waiting to humble me and for me to stumble over.
And while my body language might reveal my struggles now, I know it can also transform over time to reflect growth, confidence, and maybe, just maybe, a little mastery one day.