Farewell to the Floor: Whitney Leavitt and Mark Ballas Reflect on a Semifinal Swan Song in DWTS Season 34
Farewell to the Floor: Whitney Leavitt and Mark Ballas Reflect on a Semifinal Swan Song in DWTS Season 34
In the glittering, high-stakes world of *Dancing with the Stars*, where sequins sparkle brighter than the spotlights and every paso doble pulses with raw emotion, eliminations are never just about the votes—they're about the heartstrings pulled, the dreams deferred, and the unexpected gifts that linger long after the music fades. On November 18, 2025, during a Prince-themed semifinal episode that paid homage to the Purple One's iconic flair, one couple's journey came to a graceful yet gut-wrenching close: reality TV darling Whitney Leavitt and her seasoned pro partner, Mark Ballas. As the confetti settled and the final four pairs—Robert Irwin with Witney Carson, Jordan Chiles with Ezra Sosa, Elaine Hendrix with Alan Bersten, and Alix Earle with Val Chmerkovskiy—advanced to vie for the Len Goodman Mirrorball Trophy, Leavitt and Ballas stood onstage, hands clasped, smiles bittersweet, knowing they'd poured everything into their final spins.
What made this exit particularly poignant wasn't the shock of it all—far from it. In an exclusive post-show interview with E! News, the duo revealed a premonition that had been brewing like a storm cloud over the ballroom. "We knew, we felt it. I think we just had a feeling," Ballas shared, his voice steady but laced with the quiet wisdom of a dancer who's seen seasons rise and fall. Leavitt, nodding in agreement, echoed the sentiment with unflinching honesty: "We had a gut feeling it was us." For fans glued to their screens, this admission might sting—a reminder that even the highest scorers aren't immune to the unpredictable alchemy of viewer votes—but for Leavitt and Ballas, it was a testament to their grounded realism amid the whirlwind.
Whitney Leavitt, the 32-year-old breakout star from Hulu's *The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives*, wasn't your typical DWTS novice. Bursting onto the scene with a blend of unfiltered charisma and Midwestern grit, she arrived in Season 34 as a wildcard: a podcaster and influencer whose unapologetic take on modern motherhood and Mormon culture had already captivated niche audiences. Paired with Mark Ballas, the Emmy-nominated choreographer and three-time Mirrorball champion (last hoisting the trophy in 2017 with Lindsey Stirling), Leavitt had every reason to dazzle. Ballas, absent from the pro roster since Season 31, returned with a fire reignited, trading his behind-the-scenes directing gigs for the thrill of the floor. "I had the best time. I love this show," he confessed in the interview, his enthusiasm infectious even in retrospect. Together, they transformed potential underdog status into a symphony of synchronized steps, week after week earning scores that kept them in the upper echelons of the leaderboard.
Their semifinal showcase, steeped in Prince's funky legacy, was a microcosm of their partnership's magic. Though specifics on the choreography's intricacies—perhaps a sultry samba infused with "Kiss" vibes or a freestyle channeling "Purple Rain"'s emotional torrent—weren't dissected in the interview, Leavitt's ethos shone through: "I wanted to give it my all every single dance." It was this relentless drive that defined their arc, from early-week jitters to the polished prowess that left judges nodding in approval. Yet, as the votes tallied and the envelope opened, the ballroom's electric hum gave way to a collective exhale. Leavitt, ever the picture of poise, turned to the camera with tears glistening but resolve unbroken: "I already feel like a winner. This show has meant the absolute world for me. It's changed my life and I'll forever be so grateful to have this experience."
Delving deeper into the emotional undercurrents, Leavitt likened the elimination to a profound personal rupture—one that resonates with anyone who's ever invested soul-deep in a collaboration. "It’s sad, it does feel like a breakup because you build long-lasting friendships here with production, crew—obviously with Mark," she reflected, her words painting a vivid portrait of the DWTS ecosystem. "You spend so much time with these people every single day, so it does feel like a breakup. It’s like I’m sad, but also I’m leaving with just a grateful heart, to have been able to experience it." There's a raw poetry in that duality: the ache of severance intertwined with unshakeable appreciation. For Ballas, a veteran who's navigated the show's highs and heartbreaks before, the sentiment struck a familiar chord. His return wasn't just about redemption or routine; it was about rediscovering joy in the grind, mentoring a partner who matched his intensity, and reminding himself why the mirrorball gleams so brightly.
This "breakup" narrative isn't unique to Leavitt and Ballas—it's the unspoken rhythm of DWTS, a show that's as much therapy session as talent showcase. Flash back to the previous week's double elimination, where comedian Andy Richter and pro Emma Slater bid adieu amid similar tears. Richter, in a parallel moment of vulnerability, marveled at the metamorphosis: "It's changed my life... I'm a different person because of this show and because of this woman right here. None of this would have happened without her. She knew how to use me." Slater, with her trademark empathy, stood as a pillar, much like Ballas did for Leavitt. These stories weave a tapestry of transformation, where celebrities from disparate worlds—podcasters, gymnasts, heirs, and funnymen—converge under the tutelage of pros who've made the ballroom their second home.
Leavitt's evolution, in particular, deserves a spotlight. Entering as a self-proclaimed "Mormon wife" with a viral podcast under her belt, she embodied the show's democratizing spirit: everyday authenticity colliding with elite artistry. Her dances weren't just technical feats; they were narratives of resilience, mirroring the unscripted revelations of her reality series. Paired with Ballas, whose choreography often infuses whimsy and precision (think his iconic contemporary pieces from past seasons), they crafted routines that felt personal, almost confessional. Fans raved on social media about their chemistry—a seamless blend of Leavitt's effervescent energy and Ballas's masterful guidance. Though they didn't clinch a finale berth, their consistency—rarely dipping below the judges' graces—cemented them as fan favorites, the kind of pair that inspires watercooler debates and late-night rewatches.
As Season 34 hurtles toward its December finale, the absent echoes of Leavitt and Ballas' footsteps linger. The remaining field is formidable: Irwin's Aussie charm paired with Carson's veteran savvy; Chiles' athletic grace elevating Sosa's innovative flair; Hendrix's theatrical depth complementing Bersten's reliability; and Earle's Gen-Z sparkle syncing with Chmerkovskiy's enduring charisma. Each duo carries the torch, but none without the invisible influence of those who've fallen before. Leavitt's parting wisdom rings truest here: "There’s just some things that are out of your control, but I’m gonna leave just knowing that I gave it my all." It's a mantra that could soundtrack the entire season, a reminder that DWTS isn't solely about the win—it's about the whirl, the wounds, and the wondrous reinvention that follows.
In the days since, whispers of post-show adventures have swirled. Will Leavitt channel her ballroom glow into a dance-focused podcast episode, dissecting the vulnerabilities of performance? Might Ballas, ever the artist, tease hints of new choreography projects, perhaps even a Broadway detour? While specifics remain under wraps, one thing's certain: their elimination isn't an end, but a pivot. For a show that's weathered decades of cultural shifts—from foxtrots to freestyles—stories like theirs reaffirm its enduring allure. They danced not just for votes, but for the sheer alchemy of movement and meaning. And in that, Whitney Leavitt and Mark Ballas have already claimed their victory, mirrorball or not.
As the credits roll on their chapter, fans are left with a charge: tune in next week, root fiercely, and remember that sometimes, the most memorable steps are the ones taken off the floor. After all, in the words of Prince himself, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life." For Leavitt and Ballas, they've done just that—and then some.
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