I don’t feel like dancing

Last weekend, I did something that I hadn’t done since 10 June 2003.

I went to a wedding reception.

As well as being an event I don’t often experience, this latest case of a friend tying the knot had special significance.

It would be the first reception I would attend since undergoing my great life-change from mid-2007, so I was interested to see how I would handle it.

And one element in particular – dancing.

For most of my life, I have loved listening to music and I have no problems dancing in the privacy of my own home – but up until mid-2007, I had done almost no dancing in public because risk-averse self-conscious guys like me with no self-confidence, that’s what we do (or don’t).

In fact, the last time I had danced had been at the reception of an earlier wedding in 2003, and that had been embarrassing (to me, anyway). A stunning friend of the bride had suddenly dragged me from my seat for the last song of the night, and enroute to the dance-floor I had resolved to be a good sport and give it my best shot…but despite those good intentions, I became incredibly self-conscious and uncomfortable, and thus I spent all of ‘The Time Of My Life’ looking down at the floor as I barely shuffled my feet back and forth.

This time, however, I had resolved to do much better – and I genuinely wanted to do much better.

Still, even right up until after dinner when the dance-floor opened, I was a little nervous about it.

But although I had no plans to take the incredibly bold step and ask someone to dance, I told myself that if I was taken onto the dance-floor, I should relax, dance for myself, not give a damn about what anyone else may or may not be thinking of me, and have a good time.

Sure enough, not long after the second song had begun, a woman at my table whom I’d just met and had had some fun conversation with earlier took my hands and led me over.

I went willingly, and a moment later we began dancing to ‘Thank ABBA For The Music’.

I kept my 2003 massive dance-fail in mind, and moved my arse with a lot more effort and energy.

I kept my head up, looked directly at my partner and did several types of shuffle. I tried moving in time with her and exchanging high-fives, and although we mostly missed by country miles I kept on going. Several times, I even lifted one foot and spun all the way around on the other.

A few minutes passed.

My partner vanished – why and where, I don’t know. But that shouldn’t stop me, I told myself, so I turned to my neighbours and kept on dancing.

Another minute or so passed.

And then suddenly I realised something, and came to a halt.

I didn’t feel like dancing anymore.

I wasn’t embarrassed, or nervous, or self-conscious…

…but I was bored.

At first, I found that both funny and unbelievable. Despite my nervousness during the previous week, I had been looking forward to dancing…but now I was finally here and doing it, and after only a few minutes I wanted to stop because it wasn’t that interesting after all?

But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like just sitting back down, relaxing and enjoying the overall atmosphere.

So I did.

Time passed. The dance-floor remained busy, and I remained seated and relaxed as I enjoyed the general atmosphere and spoke with several people at my table.

From time to time, I enjoyed watching some of my fellow guests dance, but I had no plans to rejoin them and that provoked an interesting question to mull over.

What if I were asked again to dance?

On one hand, if the occasion arose I didn’t want to be a whiny deadshit about it…but on the other hand, I simply had no interest in dancing again.

So what to do?

Eventually, I decided what my response would be – and later when another woman from my table came over and asked me to join her on her dance-floor, I smiled at her and replied matter-of-factly, but also pleasantly and politely, “No, thank you.”

She placed her hands on my shoulder and asked again, so once more I smiled and replied matter-of-factly, but also pleasantly and politely, “No, thank you.”

She kept her hands on my shoulder and asked a third time.

Now I was starting to get annoyed, but for the third time I smiled and replied matter-of-factly, but also pleasantly and politely, “No, thank you.”

Fortunately, the woman I had danced with earlier was now sitting a few seats away, and she told her daughter that if I didn’t want to dance, please leave me be.

So I was left to be, and for the rest of the night I continued to sit there, relax, enjoy the general atmosphere and talk with others.

I had nothing against my second would-be dance-partner – she was a nice person and a few times throughout the night we spoke and had a few laughs.

But, despite giving it my best shot and initially liking it, I ultimately realised that I didn’t want to dance after all, and I was fine with declining her request.

Although I did appreciate her mother lending support at that crucial moment.

Until next time, stay well and take care 🙂

About blackandblueman

Black and Blue Man lives in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
This entry was posted in Confidence, Inspiration, Life Challenges, Life is Good, Life Strategies, My Story. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to I don’t feel like dancing

  1. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: Classic Edition

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s