Loveawake dating site. © Copyright 2009-2020. All rights
The other night I suggested that my girl friends and I go to a wine tasting and then to salsa lessons at a local club. This second part is very unlike me. I DO NOT dance by my own volition. I do it to be social, to go out and be seen by my classmates, and to prove I’m a normal, well-adjusted human being. But in general, I do not dance for fun.
However, this previous Friday I woke up feeling different (or is it differently?). I went to yoga for the first time in months (which is a whole other story), and later that night, we all got dressed and headed to the wine tasting. It ended up being in a suburb outside of Boston in a liquor store. To the event’s credit, there were people (approximately) our age there, and the wines were enjoyable (and most importantly, free).
Once we left the wine tasting, we headed to get thai food where we had a series of inappropriately loud conversations about inappropriate topics. It was a delicious and wonderfully fun dinner. As we paid our bill, I began to feel the itch—the hermit itch I get so often that tells me that I just want to go home and relax, watch a movie with a friend or by myself. You’ve already missed the 9:00 lessons, Hermit Kaneisha whispered. You won’t be able to catch up by now anyway. Just go another week.
However, one of my friends was determined to go to the club no matter what. In fact, one of her friends was having her birthday party there and she had put all our names on the list, meaning we wouldn’t have to pay the cover charge! So we accompanied my friend to the club and I figured we’d just look to see what the scene was like. I could hear Hermit Kaneisha grumbling, but I told her to settle down. We wouldn’t be there long.
When my friends and I ascended two flights of stairs, I was intrigued to see a wide open room full of frozen couples, waiting for the next instructions from the salsa instructor. I wanted to be a part of one of those couples, my hand matched to a partner’s, my eyes fixed on the instructor, eager to learn the next move.
To my surprise, an impressively tall and friendly-faced man approached us, introduced himself as a friend of the birthday girl, and proceeded to teach me the basics of salsa. I have tried to learn salsa before (I lived in Cuba for five months, for goodness sakes!), but this time I actually got it. And when I say got it, I mean it in every sense of the word. I picked up the basic positions, moves, and even several turns. And more importantly, I picked up the passion for salsa. After three dances with the Salsa Master (I actually called him that to his face), I was in love with salsa. The entire experience at the club was pure happiness—friendly, attractive people who simply want to dance and meet new people. Men politely asked us to dance (like in the movies!), my partners were patient when I got confused, and they were always very encouraging. I knew that I could show up to this place alone and still have a fantastic time.
I left the club a hot, sweaty mess with my feet on fire but I was full of joy. I had found a form of dancing that I loved—and that I was even okay at! I can’t wait to go again.
Show up even when you don’t feel like it. Maybe it’s a dinner you’ve been invited to. Maybe it’s a party or a concert in the park. If you feel yourself exhibiting hermit-like behavior, question where the hermitness is coming from. Perhaps you really do need some time alone or with a close friend or two to rejuvenate yourself. However, it is very likely that you are letting that little voice (which interestingly sounds exactly like your voice) talk you out of going because a part of you is afraid—afraid that you won’t be good at something, afraid that you won’t meet someone, or afraid that you will.
I’m so happy that I showed up that night. What do you need to show up to?