Me? Straddling Aljaz, then kissing him in front of my husband? Genius!

After BBC newsreader’s sizzling dance...

So it’s the Monday after the weekend before and what a weekend! the culmination of nine days of training saw me step onto that iconic strictly dance floor and into a cha-chacha of the sassiest order.

i confess when Aljaz first told me that we were going to be dancing to tom Jones’s Kiss, and that the routine would include me kissing him at the end (while pretty much straddling him on the dancefloor), i couldn’t take him seriously.

to make it easier for me to switch into ‘ character’, he created Penelope, an oldschool news broadcaster who took herself very seriously. Aljaz was Walt, the cameraman, who had worshipped Penelope through the prism of his lens for years — a classic case of unrequited love.

our dance represented the moment when Walt at last came out of the shadows and Penelope finally noticed him.

it was a genius move, because would i have been able to do that dance as me? Probably not. Aljaz said, though, i had to take a deep breath and commit, as otherwise the dance would not work as we would have no connection.

Aljaz’s wife, fellow strictly professional Janette Manrara, has wonderfully been on hand for advice, reassuring me that ‘dancing is theatre and the audience have to be convinced of a chemistry between the dancers. Just go for it!’

it’s only week one and my husband has already had to be more understanding than we might have anticipated, although he’s loving the impact the dancing is having on my physique — as am i. i feel younger and fitter already.

so how am i feeling after that first strictly dance? Well, i’m on a high. i loved every second and i’ve loved seeing the audience reaction. Everyone has taken it in the style in which it was intended: a woman dancing joyously and, let’s face it, with some abandon.

it’s what i wanted from this experience, not to be hindered by self- consciousness or nerves. i have always felt liberated when i dance. i’ve just not done it in front of millions of people before.

i loved it on saturday, and that’s even with my less than technically perfect score. in fact, my daughter Clemency can’t understand why i was thrilled with how it went. ‘You only got 20, Mummy,’ she said. And she thought Craig — ‘the man at the end’ — was mean.

i had to tell her that Craig was just being constructive, and i showed her a photo of the gorgeous man himself in a ‘tango hold’ with me in the green room after the show.

i am here to learn: it’s a life lesson, i said to her. We all make mistakes at the beginning when learning something new. that’s how we progress.

NEXT week, i’m aiming for more elegance and more precision but also still to entertain because that is important, too, and i love reading the delightful comments from women, especially, who say watching my dance made them want to get up and strut their stuff too.

i know many of them understand what it means to be able to revive a part of us that has lain dormant for a while.

Embracing womanhood is wonderful and i am loving the support i am getting from young women like Zoe sugg, with whom i have bonded through her brother Joe, who is on the show, through to BBC Radio 2’ s sara Cox, who tweeted me saying that when i was straddling Aljaz i was doing it for hard- working, knackered mums everywhere! speaking of which, i am going to get Aljaz to do the school run with me this week. After Aljaz’s visit to the newsroom, i thought it would be good for him also to see the other side of my life, as a mummy.

He is also attending a mental health and wellbeing conference, where i will deliver a keynote speech, which will entail interviews with psychiatrists and talking about brain development.

When talking about mental health, we do well to be reminded that it’s totally connected to our physical health — and dancing is a brilliant form of therapy. it causes a release of feel-good endorphins into the bloodstream, reduces levels of cortisol (the stress hormone) and it makes us feel good because we feel so alive.

i like the synergy that my new role in strictly creates with my work in mental health. Yes, taking part is terrifying in parts, but it’s a good sort of terror — the sort that makes you want to come back and do it all again.

Which is good, as today we start practising our next routine, and we’ve got to work out who we are going to be now that we’ve waved off Penelope and Walt.

Aljaz says, though, that this routine is going to be even sexier. But this time, i reckon i’m ready for it.