I love music and I love dancing. When I am at home, my playlist is on at full volume, and I bop around my kitchen. I like to think I have rhythm. In fact, I was so convinced of my natural ability that for years I thought I might be quite good on Strictly. It’s one of my absolute favourite shows – so much so that I knew if they ever asked me to take part I would jump at the opportunity.
On This Morning, we would often interview the judges, contestants and professionals, and I always loved it when Anton Du Beke came on. He was so warm and friendly.
I would tell him how keen I was to be on the show, and in return he would whisk me around the studio floor. It was all a bit of fun until 2017, when my agent got a call to ask if I was interested in being in the next series.
You’d think I would have jumped up and down with glee. But my first reaction was to say thanks so much for asking, but no, no, no.
In my head I used my lack of availability as an excuse. I was far too busy doing two daytime TV presenting jobs, This Morning and Loose Women, wasn’t I?
I thought about my son Jack, then aged 15, and how little I would be at home for him. More to the point, how absolutely mortifying it would be for him to watch his 57-year-old mother being swung around the dance floor on Saturday nights. Deep down I knew with some careful planning and long days I could probably make it work. The truth was, I was scared rigid.
It was Eamonn, my now ex-husband and Jack’s dad, who talked me round. He couldn’t understand my sudden reticence, and he reminded me how many years I had been saying I wanted to do it. ‘If you say no now,’ he said, ‘they might never ask again. You might regret this decision and always wonder if you would have had the time of your life. You could be good at it!’
Ruth Langsford performs the quickstep with Anton du Beke on Strictly Come Dancing
On This Morning, we would often interview the judges, contestants and professionals, and I always loved it when Anton Du Beke came on, writes Ruth Langsford. He was so warm and friendly.
He had a point. I was no stranger to feelings of inadequacy and imposter syndrome, and each time I had come through the trepidation and out the other side into something wonderful. Maybe this would happen again.
In the meeting with the Strictly producers they made it very clear that I couldn’t choose the dancer I wanted to be paired up with – but if I could wave a magic wand then who would I point it at? Easy answer. Anton, of course. I was thrilled when I got my wish.
Anton is, hand on heart, one of the nicest, kindest, loveliest people I have ever worked with. He never once raised his voice in the rehearsal room – indeed he hardly raised an eyebrow, and I gave him much cause to. I would regularly burst into tears of frustration, which he dealt with in an understanding way. And he was funny. Which was a relief, because it’s an intense experience, and I was pushing myself far beyond my comfort zone.
The last thing on my mind during those early rehearsals was the live show on the following Saturday. My focus was entirely on learning the steps. I picked them up fairly quickly, but I discovered that I was not good at retaining the choreography.
This was a minor disaster. Anton would show me a dance – say the Charleston or the samba – and I picked up the basic steps. He would be pleased and then he would put the moves together and that was when I fell apart. I just couldn’t remember if I was starting from the right or left foot. I went blank. I might do something, and he would say, ‘Oh, that’s good. Not what I taught you, but still good!’ He never made me feel stupid and he could see how hard I was trying.
After rehearsals, I would go home and practise in my kitchen before putting my sore feet in a bowl of iced water, as advised by Anton. When I went to bed at night, I was still doing the strange dance counting in my head.
By the time the Friday night rehearsal at the studio came round I hadn’t realised how different it would be dancing with Anton in a rehearsal room to turning up at a huge venue full of people and cameras. The music started and it was like my entire memory had been wiped. I could not remember a single step of the waltz. I kept stumbling, going in the wrong direction and treading on Anton’s feet.
Anton was speechless for the first time, and I thought I was going to cry in front of the crew. The choreographer Jason Gilkison scooted over and told me not to worry, that the first rehearsal was often terrible.
To cheer me up, Anton told me about a celebrity contestant he had one year who whispered in his ear just before their first dance began that she couldn’t feel her legs. Poor woman, I thought, and was glad that this wouldn’t happen to me – I got nervous doing my day job on live TV, but I never suffered from stage fright.
That night I barely slept a wink. I had got myself into this situation and now it was the worst part. Be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it.
How to feel fabulous in everyday life
Everybody needs to find the things in life that make them feel fabulous. It can be the smallest thing, like your first coffee in the morning, not just the big showy stuff. Sometimes it may be so tiny you could miss it. Here are some of mine:
Taking my border collie cross Maggie out for a walk, a daily joy. I always take my phone, just in case, but I try to leave it in my pocket so I am not tempted to scroll. I want to immerse myself in the season, breathe deeply, look at the trees and enjoy Maggie’s delight at being outside.Being with my friends, at home or on holiday, drinking gin and laughing until we cry.Sitting on my sofa with the fire on and the theme tune for Coronation Street starting up.Getting dressed up and going out with friends for a long lunch that turns into early-evening cocktails.Being on my own in the kitchen, batch cooking or prepping ready to feed people.Seeing Mum’s face light up when Maggie and I come to visit.Jack coming home for the weekend and cooking breakfast for him while he sits chatting to me. <!- – ad: https://mads.dailymail.co.uk/v8/de/tvshowbiz/none/article/other/mpu_factbox.html?id=mpu_factbox_1 – ->
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The day of the live broadcast went by in a whirl of action and nerves, helped by the rest of the lovely contestants. Although the show didn’t go out until around 7pm, it was a very long day, going through make-up, wardrobe and full dress rehearsals.
We waited behind the scenes for the theme music to begin, the signal we were live to the nation (how many millions I did not want to know), swiftly followed by the introductions as each couple came to the top of the stairs and glided down.
Anton had tight hold of me – he could feel me shaking and he told me how gorgeous I looked, reminding me to smile as the camera focused on us.
I did a stupid little wave, which I would never normally do (what was wrong with me?!) and then we walked down the stairs, me praying I wouldn’t fall. I really did not feel like myself.
Our dance was scheduled towards the end of the show, so we stood up in the balcony, watching each couple and cheering them on. Every contestant looked amazing to me. They really were all outstanding and, as time passed, my nerves got worse and worse, and I had a deep sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
I eventually turned to Anton. ‘I can’t remember the steps. It’s all gone out of my head,’ I said. He looked at me, and he could see I was panicking. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the action. ‘You don’t need to see any more of this.’
We went downstairs to the little tea and coffee-making station and Anton suggested we have a cuppa and walk through the steps.
‘Ruth,’ – he was very calm – ‘you do know the dance. And even if you don’t, I do and I will just guide you around the floor so there is nothing to worry about.’
I thought, he’s right. Thank God. Of course he knows it, and he will be right by my side.
When it was our turn, Tess Daly announced us and a spotlight shone brightly on our fixed grins before they rolled the video of me crashing about in training. I could hear my voice saying, ‘I am so excited to be on Strictly! It’s my dream!’
It was at this point my brain seemed to detach from my body. As I walked down the stairs to get on the dance floor, I was aware of just how many people were in the studio. I live and breathe live television so that wasn’t a problem, but I had never performed in front of a big audience before and I swear I could see the whites of their eyes.
Our dance began just in front of the orchestra (who gave me a little supportive wave). There were a few steps up to a little stage where a chaise longue was positioned for me to sit on demurely, waiting for my suitor – Anton – to appear.
Then I was supposed to get up and walk towards him down the steps, where he would take my hand, whirl me around and, whoosh, off we would go. Here started the longest seconds of my life.
I couldn’t move and I felt dizzy. I had no saliva in my mouth, so my smile was more of a grimace with my lips stuck to my teeth. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears, and I was convinced the audience would be able to hear it, too.
And I thought, I am going to faint. Right here, on Strictly. A live show. Nobody has ever done that before. Maybe they’ll cut the cameras or focus on the judges? Everything about the experience, from how I looked to what I was doing, was so alien to me.
I had spotted Eamonn and Jack in the front row and, unbeknown to me, at that moment Eamonn turned to Jack and said: ‘I think she’s in trouble.’ He could tell from my wide-eyed stare.
The music began and Anton danced over to me and held out his hand, which I didn’t take. I didn’t move. History was repeating itself for him because I couldn’t seem to make my legs work. It was as if my feet were blocks of concrete.
I just looked at him like I had no idea what I was doing there, as if someone had just plonked me down on the chaise and told me to stay still. He came up the stairs, took my hand and pulled me up, making it look like this was the choreography we had planned.
I remember him taking hold of me, and then it became an out-of-body experience, as if I was watching myself from the corner of the room and in my place was a rag doll, being carried around by Anton. I think he did just lift me off my feet at certain points. All I remember is the advice he had given me in rehearsal that ‘whatever happens, remember to smile because if you look uncomfortable the audience will feel uncomfortable watching you’.
I tried to show the composure I was far from feeling and grinned like a Cheshire cat.
The finale of the dance was three big twirls – something I was good at because Anton had taught me those early on – while fireworks went off behind us, and then we returned to the chaise longue, where we had started.
At this point I came back into my body, relieved that I hadn’t thrown up or collapsed, but with no memory of what had just happened.
We stood in front of the judges, and I smiled and nodded a lot because I couldn’t catch everything they were saying. It was like listening to a radio being tuned, so I would get snatches of their conversation and then it would disappear again and I was just watching their mouths move.
The next thing I knew, we were back upstairs with Claudia Winkleman, and I thought – or maybe said out loud – ‘Oh my God, I have just danced on Strictly!’
Then I definitely said, ‘I was terrible!’, to which Anton replied, ‘Nonsense! You were stupendous’ in his hugely supportive way, hugging me close and defending me against judge Craig Revel Horwood’s low score.
If that was my first time and I was convinced I was going to die of nerves, how could I do this every week? Anton was going to hate me. I was going to hate me. What I realised in hindsight was that I had suffered a panic attack, not something I’d ever experienced before.
It reminded me of a number of actors I have interviewed over the years who talked about stage fright, with one saying she had to throw up in a bin every night before she went on stage.
I was supposed to get up and walk towards Anton down the steps, but I thought: I am going to faint. Right here, on Strictly
It was Eamonn Holmes, my now ex-husband, who talked me round to joining on to the show
I look back now and can’t believe I lasted for nine weeks, although I wish we could have stayed in one more week and got to Blackpool
As a TV presenter, I often have the buzz of adrenaline, but this is usually a powerful feeling that keeps me on my toes and helps me be good at my job. It’s a positive energy, unlike the awful disconnect that overwhelmed me in the first live Strictly.
Anton was unperturbed. He congratulated me on getting through the debut performance, said I looked lovely and that from now on it would be much easier. He always made me feel like I had done a fantastic job even when I knew I hadn’t.
We moved on to the second week and while I still felt ill during the live show, it was a little better. I still struggled with the choreography. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t seem to keep it in my head and so frustrated it would make me cry.
Anton named those days Teary Tuesdays and Weepy Wednesdays, the low points of learning a new routine. We started every Monday with a new dance, say the tango, and spent all week on it, before the live show on Saturday.
By the following Monday I had to forget all about the tango because we were on to the foxtrot. It was incredibly stressful, but Anton always defused these situations with a gag or words of kindness.
In week five, we were in dress rehearsal dancing the samba and Anton was in the most ridiculously brilliant outfit of an orange and pink shirt with massive frills on the sleeves and pink sparkly trousers. He was bouncing around in front of me, giving his encouraging smile, and I had an epiphany. I finally saw the joy of it.
‘Ruth,’ I said to myself, ‘look, you’re not a dancer. You’re not very good but just let yourself go because look at him. He’s smiling and laughing because this is a FUN dance. And so what if you get the steps wrong? You’re here now, so just let yourself go.’
From that moment, the abject fear evaporated.
Yes, I was still nervous every Saturday and, yes, I never completely knew my dance, but I found the compassion for myself and the love for what I was doing.
I look back now and can’t believe I lasted for nine weeks, although I wish we could have stayed in one more week and got to Blackpool. The highest score I got from the judges was 6 for my tango, four 6s in fact, and I was thrilled.
Craig Revel Horwood had given me a 2 at one point and when I saw him in the bar afterwards I jokingly said, ‘Two? Really?! Do you know how hard I have worked?’
He gave me a big hug. ‘Darling, you know I love you,’ he replied, ‘but it was dreadful.’ And I had to agree with him. I adore Craig for his humour and honesty.
I found the hardest dance was the rumba because I had to be sexy and there was a bit of gyrating. Bruno Tonioli, one of the judges, called me an ice maiden. ‘Dahling,’ he said, ‘your hips were frozen stiff! They need thawing out!’ It was funny and I didn’t take it to heart – after all, it’s an entertainment show.
The funniest moment was the paso doble. At the end of the dance, Anton wanted a big finish with me lying across his knee, but in the live show he lost his balance and toppled backwards. There was a split second where I had to make a decision about how I would react.
I decided to lean into the comedy of it all, so I climbed on top of him. There is a brilliant picture of my bum in the air and Anton’s feet sticking out from the bottom of my skirt.
The camera panned to Eamonn and Jack, who were laughing together. They knew me so well and saw I was trying to manage what could have been a really awkward moment by making it funny.
As for my lovely boy Jack, it can’t be easy having two parents on TV, let alone discovering that one of them was going to be dancing on live telly every Saturday.
He was a teenager who could be mortified by a lot less so I was worried about how me being on Strictly would affect him. I spoke to him about it before I signed up and he was happy for me to do it. I needn’t have been concerned. He came every single week.
Every time the camera panned to him, he looked so proud, and it made me cry.
That was the best feeling for me, that I had his support – he was really upset for me when I was finally voted out.
I found it hard to watch the show the following year because I was filled with envy. I didn’t want to see Anton dancing with anyone else – it was like he was cheating on me!
Despite my childish jealousy, I was thrilled for him when he did so well with Emma Barton and I happily cheered them on. He and I are friends to this day.
Looking back on that experience, I remember Anton’s advice to just be myself, which can sometimes be the hardest thing to do. Being your true self when you are far out of your comfort zone is difficult to achieve and the show was such a learning curve for me.
I gained such a huge sense of pride in myself, and I thank Anton, Eamonn and Jack for all their encouragement because I doubt I would have done it without them. And what a regret that would be.
© Ruth Langsford 2026
Adapted from Feeling Fabulous by Ruth Langsford, to be published by Hodder & Stoughton on February 26, priced £22. To order a copy for £18.70 (offer valid to March 7; UK p&p free on orders over £25) go to mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937.