So, just like the world-renowned character Chad Danforth from High School Musical, I’m definitely not a dancer. They can all move their bodies, shake their asses, match the beat, and always look so phenomenal while doing it; takes a lot of confidence, which I burn with jealousy over. You see, my chances of ever being a great dancer were nipped in the bud when I was but only in the 2nd grade. I put myself out there at a young age, and was ripped apart by the masses, which killed me inside, and made me embarrassed to ever try dancing again.
My parents worked until the evening, so I had to attend this after-school program, where myself, and the other forgotten children, were forced into doing lame crap like our homework, learning leadership skills, and developing lifelong friendships. However, they also had fun clubs you can join, too. And, I chose the Dance Club, which ended up being a terrible decision on my part.
We spent weeks practicing moves, and putting together a routine for a recital the after-school program put together. I had a total blast during it all, I loved listening to the music, acting all goofy, and learning all these different steps. Everyone was having so much fun, and it was a super enjoyable experience to have, and I couldn’t wait to have more.
Then, came time for the recital. I forget what exact song it was to, but it was something slow because we had to perform these elegant-style spins, almost like a ballerina does. I was so nervous, but we all ran out there onto the gym’s floor, and got into place. The music started, and pretty soon it was time for the spin.
I was totally ready. I closed my eyes, locked my hands above my head, and spun. Everything was so going so great, until I heard the first chuckle, and after a couple of seconds that chuckle turned into a roar. The crowd of parents were all laughing at me for my less-than-masculine spin. I just stood there, like a deer in headlights, I was so embarrassed I couldn’t move my body.
The song finished, and we all exited. Without even asking, I was told by one of the girls that I’m a boy, and boys just don’t dance. I internalized what she said; took it to heart. I am a boy, so therefore I told myself not to ever dance again, to keep people for ridiculing me for my perceived girliness.
Now that I’m older, I’m well aware boys can dance, too. But, that whole experience jacked everything up for me. I lost my rhythm over the years, got more robotic. I feel like all eyes are judging me whenever I try to get moving, so sometimes I just don’t move. The only time I can break free, and dance like a normal person is whenever I’m drunk in a club. But, even when I’m intoxicated, I still get self-conscious, and I only dance like a tool. Barely swaying my hips, and moving my arms just enough to not look weird.
Hopefully, as time goes on, I can build a bridge, and get the hell over my embarrassment. I’d love to be able to move my body without fear, just like everyone can around me. And, once I’m over it, this ass is going to be shaking around 24/7, so get ready for the great view.
