I am the guy who stands in a quiet corner at parties. I’ve never been the dancing type. It doesn’t mean that I don’t like to dance, but somehow everybody around me always seemed to have all the smooth moves, whereas I felt more like a malfunctioning robot. I was always embarrassed of myself. Admittedly, I rarely tried moves out in public, so no one ever would or could judge them. The only complaints I have ever had, is that I did not dance*. I only dance in secret, when nobody can see me.
My therapist could smell the fear in me. The bloodhound. He’s good.
“Do you like dancing?”
“You should take dancing lessons. I think it’d be good for you.”
Not even an explanation… Straight for the throat. He has given me quite a few sensible pieces of advice. He may be right.
So now I recently started dancing classes. Every morning at 08.30, Jason Derulo begs us to let him take me dancing**. Which I do, under the marvellous leadership of my 19 month-old son – a phenomenal dancer with fantastic moves, and zero judgment. The first sessions have been good fun.
We’ll see what happens.
* There seem to be people that make it their main life goal to have everyone at the party dance. Special attention is of course given to those that say they prefer not to. By the way, those people are the worst. If you’re one of those people, you’re not making it better. It’s like hitting me, but I’m already down.
** In fact, my son prefers ‘Savage Love‘, which he starts off with some sick head-bopping moves. I prefer a more subtle arm swing from left to right on ‘Let’s make love, not war‘, but I could just be a pacifist hippie…