J: Dancing Queen

Despite all of these years in the south, late last year was my very first time to experience country dancing. It happened at my church’s Christmas party for singles. As part of the evening's activities they had set up an hour of two-steppin' lessons and then opened up the dance floor. I LOVED it, adored it, couldn’t get enough of it! I literally went out 2 days later and bought a pair of cowboy boots so that at the next opportunity I would have the appropriate footwear. “Have boots, will dance” appeared as my facebook status. Nothing was holding me back. I was shocked that it took me 30ish years to discover this heady combination of socializing and exercise all rolled into one!

Admittedly, all of this dancing passion might have been due in part to the boy that I was first paired with on the dance floor. This guy had taken lessons and it showed. As he swung me around the floor, I felt like a princess. All I needed was a long swishy dress. Dancing with his strong lead I was just one rehearsal away from “Dancing With the Stars.”

This guy also just happened to be one of my friends…a friend that I was in the process of trying to figure out whether I liked in that way. After dancing with him, no more figuring was needed on my part. I felt sparks. I felt electricity. I felt…chemistry.

The problem was...I don’t think he was experiencing those fireworks with me. While I got to experience the magic of being swung around the dance floor for the first time he got the joy of having his feet trampled. The lucky guy also got the delightful chance to exercise extreme patience as I figured out how to keep the beat. (Okay, okay, so maybe it would take a few more than one rehearsal before I hit the competitive dance floor.)

Add to this the fact that I’ve been warned in no uncertain terms that this particular boy has intimacy issues. Big ones! My source had already informed me that many, many girls had cried on her shoulder over this same boy. Her advice was to stay far away if I didn’t want to end up like all the others. Grrrreat.

So, here it is almost February and almost every week since Christmas I’ve found at least one night to go dancing. If I’m being honest I must admit that each time I walk into a dance hall I am hoping my friend will be there. And each time I have to remind myself to pull back on those emotional reins. If he’s there, I can’t freak him out by letting him know that I’m so very into him. I can’t afford to have him feeling the least bit uncomfortable around me if it would lead to him feeling awkward dancing with me which would most likely lead to his avoiding dancing with me completely. (Did I mention his EXTREME intimacy issues?)

And, if he’s not there, I can’t let myself be too disappointed. I can’t spend the entire night watching the door. I have to keep my focus on other boys who actually have potential...not on the one who doesn’t seem to find me nearly as delightful as I think he should.

And so…no matter who is there (or not there)…I dance and I dance and I dance.

I dance with anyone & everyone who asks. I dance with the cute cowboy wannabes in their pristine cowboy hats and unscuffed boots. I dance with the old guys who are experienced, strong leaders. I dance with the cocky dance instructors who act as though they’re doing me a favor by flashing me a smile and I even dance with the geeky gangly guys with the fabulous dancing form & impeccable sense of rhythm. If it means another spin around the floor I've even been known to be the one to do the asking. I dance until I’m out of breath and dizzy from all the twirling . I dance until my hair has gone all curly from the sweat and my feet have blisters from the boots. I dance until I’ve recaptured that lovely princess flying around the ballroom feeling.

If I were a betting gal, I'd put money on the fact that at least one of my 12 dates this year will come from all of this dancing. I’d also bet that the dancing friend (ya know…that one that I’m crushing on) won’t be one of the 12. I don’t know if I would actually want to assign him just one month since I want him to be in my life for much longer than that. I guess, most of all, I don’t want that intimacy alarm of his to go off and to scare him into disappearing on me. If all this means that we’re just friends…so be it.

As long as our friendship involves dancing…lots and lots of dancing.