The Choreography of my Legal Career

They say every good story starts at the barre, and mine did, too. From the disciplined repetition of pliés and pirouettes at the ballet barre to the bright lights of the competition stage, dance taught me precision, resilience, and the power of presence. Then came college. Trading one barre and stage for another (campus bars and Greek life) where I found my best friends and, more importantly, myself.

Back in law school I even wrote a blog post on how dance prepared me for life, read it here. 

Law school brought a new kind of choreography: long nights of case briefs, endless outlines, and my school’s version of “bar review” - think a Greek life mixer - that wasn’t quite the same as before. Through each step, I continued finding myself but this time not as a performer, but as a future attorney.

Becoming a sworn-in attorney felt like opening night all over again. The nerves, the pride, the quiet confidence of knowing you’ve earned your place. 

I never won big at a competition as a soloist and while I’m ok with that, in my career I definitely want that recognition. And now, standing as an expert witness at our Nation’s capital, feeling like maybe I won a title, I can’t help but see the rhythm that’s carried me from one bar to another.

After all, there’s something to be said about the dancer-to-lawyer pipeline. A path that demands grace, grit, a sharp mind, and an unwavering sense of balance especially on one leg on a tiny wooden box.

What most people don’t realize is how much being a dancer prepares you for law. Years of rehearsals teach you what it means to commit even when it hurts to show up, to push through when you’re tired, and to perfect something not because someone’s watching, but because excellence is the standard you set for yourself. And that your clients demand of you. 

In dance, every movement has meaning; in law, every word does. Precision isn’t optional, it’s everything. You learn early on how to take critique without crumbling, how to perform under pressure, and how to pivot when things don’t go as planned, but to make it look planned. Dancers live in the world of constant feedback, which turns out to be perfect training for oral arguments, courtroom dynamics, or in my case, contract negotiations and calls with marketing professionals who maybe don’t get just how much work goes into it.  In both dance and law adaptability is key.

Then there’s the teamwork. The silent trust built backstage, not just dancer to dancer but dancer to teacher, and to the dance dads who built the props and the dance moms who kept us looking the part. There was an understanding that the show doesn’t succeed unless everyone hits their mark. That translates directly into collaboration with colleagues, co- and opposing counsel and clients. You learn when to lead and when to support, how to anticipate the next move before it’s made, and how to read a room. All essential instincts for any good lawyer.

Whether it’s in a boardroom or on a stage, it’s about telling a story that moves people, and that’s something dancers have always known how to do.

Building Out Kayla Moran Law

Just like in dance, as an attorney I’ve learned that no performance, contract or trademark matter, or business succeeds in isolation. Behind every strong individual is an even stronger ensemble. As I continue to grow in my legal career and beyond, that truth has never felt more relevant.

I want to provide my clients with their very own ensemble, a strategic partner on their team here for them every step of the way. And to do that, I now need to grow my own ensemble. 

Building something sustainable requires more than talent and determination. It takes structure, trust, and the right team. In dance, we relied on our training, starting with ballet and the technical drills, and then the choreographers, lighting techs, and fellow dancers to make a performance shine. 

In law, we rely on assistants, law clerks, associates, and mentors to bring a vision to life. As I scale my own practice and projects, I’m realizing how vital it is to bring that same intentionality to building systems that work with me, not against me.

That’s where my focus is shifting: from doing it all myself to building a foundation that can support growth. Recently, that’s meant investing in the right tools, processes, and people. I started with just my personal board of advisors, my parents and therapist and then a CPA but now we’re adding to the board. 

Hiring a fractional COO has been a game-changer in translating my vision from a dream to a strategy, passion into performance, and ideas into infrastructure.

Whether you’re on stage or running a business, the goal is the same: to move with precision, alignment, grace, and to make sure every part of your team is dancing in rhythm.

Wouldn’t Be a KML Newsletter Without a Reference to a TikTok Trend

Growth isn’t just about scaling systems, it’s also about standing firm in your values. I’ve been thinking a lot about integrity in the spaces I work in.

As a lawyer in the creator economy, I see every day how creativity meets commerce and how often creators are left unprotected or undervalued in the process. The same discipline that ballet and law taught me fuels how I advocate for my clients.

So, in the spirit of keeping things real (and a little bit fun), I had to join in on the latest TikTok trend making its rounds: My Betrayal List as a Creator Economy Lawyer.

Because while I can appreciate a good performance, some of the things I see in contracts and negotiations? Absolute plot twists.

• Brands and marketing agencies who pay late or never pay at all

• "Take it or leave it" negotiation tactics

• Perpetual usage rights

• Overly broad license language in creator partnership contracts because the brand doesn’t know what they want to do with your content yet

• Sneaking contract clauses into already negotiated agreements between rounds

• When the brief and contract don’t match

• Agency account managers and opposing parties who don’t know the law or how a contract works

• Net 90 payment terms for deals under $20k

• Limits on redlines for deals over $3k or under $20k

• SOWs being treated as contracts when they’re missing clear terms like termination and indemnification

• Creators who sign contracts as they come, making it harder for those who do read their agreements to advocate for themselves

• Talent managers who act like lawyers — reviewing (and sometimes signing) contracts they don’t fully understand

There’s definitely more, but the bottom line: my clients matter. Their rights matter. Their businesses matter. And I don’t play games. 

My goal is and has always been to empower and educate creators and creative entrepreneurs and my training is being put to the test lately. 

Quote of the Month

Overcoming Imposter Syndrome 

If I’m being real, even with everything I’ve accomplished from the dance stage to Capitol Hill, now teaching a course with FSU Law (see more here), from building my own practice to advocating for creators, imposter syndrome used to sit quietly in the back of my mind.

It wasn’t loud, but it was there. That little voice asking, “Who am I to be here?” or “Do I really deserve this opportunity?” 

I think so many of us, especially high achievers and creatives, know that feeling all too well. You keep showing up, doing the work, pushing through, but sometimes it still feels like you’re waiting for someone to tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, you don’t actually belong here.” Or “you should be more realistic.”

For me, that shifted the day I spoke on Capitol Hill and continues to with every new project I announce or get approached about. 

I remember sitting there waiting to be called on, nervous, excited, heart racing and hands shaking. But as I started talking about the creator economy, about my bread and butter: the people I represent and the changes we need to see, I felt something settle.

It wasn’t about proving myself anymore. It was about showing up fully for my clients, for my industry, and for the younger version of me who dreamed about moments like this but didn’t always believe she could reach them.

When I finished speaking, I didn’t feel like an imposter. I felt aligned. I realized that every late night, every moment of doubt, every twist in my path, from the ballet barre to the legal bar, had led me exactly where I was supposed to be.

So now, when that old voice tries to come back, I remind myself: I’ve earned this. I’m not pretending. I’m becoming, and I’m just getting started.

And yeah I get hate and questions and weird looks still. There’s rumors and weird energy because that only becomes louder. But it’s so much easier now to ignore. Because I know I’m not competitive with anyone. 

What I’m doing hasn’t been done before, at least not quite like this. And that feels just as good as a deep stretch or nailing a routine. 

Outro

They say confidence is quiet, but alignment is even quieter. It’s the peace that comes when your purpose finally meets your preparation. There isn’t one moment when you know you’ve made it. 

It’s an energy thing. 

Looking back, I can see every chapter of my life coming together like every character in Act 2 of The Nutcracker (my favorite ballet). 

From a dancer’s discipline, to a law student’s grit, to a lawyer’s fight, to an entrepreneur’s vision, every 8 counts and contracts built the foundation for where I stand today. 

None of it was random. Every late night, every “no,” every redline, every fall, every bruise and every rehearsal was preparing me to lead, to serve, and to show others that they can do the same.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that growth doesn’t always feel glamorous in real time. It feels like doubt, risk, reinvention, and a whole lot of blind faith. But when you keep showing up, even when the choreography changes, you eventually find your rhythm again. It becomes second nature  

So here’s to the next stage in my life: empowering, scaling, and standing fully in who I am, a dancer turned lawyer, still moving with purpose.

And if you’re reading this wondering whether you belong in the room you’ve worked so hard to reach, let me tell you what I had to learn for myself:

You do. You’ve earned it. You’re not behind, you’re becoming.

Keep Up With Kayla and Kayla Moran Law 

Let’s make October a month of purpose, passion, and productivity.

Thanks for reading!

Talk soon,

Kayla