Issue 012: This is Supposed to Be Fun!
Returning to dance (and the complex choreography of making friends in adulthood)
“Ladies, don’t hate me,” the dance instructor says, before demonstrating the next eight counts of choreography for us. The Spice Girls’ Wannabe blares from the speakers and she calls out as she moves, “Step, twirl, walk, walk, bo-dy roll, squat, splits!” A mix of groans and laughter follows, and many of us cringe as we imagine attempting the middle splits that our teacher just performed with ease. It’s week two of our adult jazz class, and some of us (the small cohort above age 35) are wondering if we made a mistake when we enrolled. Maybe we need to speak up and tell Little Miss Limber that our parts aren’t stretchy like that anymore. That even if we attempt the leaps, kicks, and splits to which she’s challenged us tonight, our joints aren’t reliable enough to ensure we won’t get stuck permanently on the floor, legs pointing east and west like a sad, broken compass.
“You don’t have to do the splits at the end,” she says, reading our minds (or our faces). “I’ll give you a modifier.” And she shows an alternative move which looks safer for the geriatric set of dancers in the back of the studio. We shake out our limbs, line up, and face the mirrors, ready(ish) to perform what we’ve learned. The Spice Girls start up again, and as we all wait for our cue to start, our instructor calls out one last directive: “Remember—this is supposed to be fun!”
When I discovered this class, I was still dizzy with the disappointment of my fall tap class being canceled before it ever started. Several of the other tappers got hurt (because, it turns out you can get severely injured after a certain age simply by stepping out of bed) and there weren’t enough students to justify running the class. As soon as I learned another local studio was offering adult jazz, I logged on and entered my credit card number. I probably should’ve started a stretching regimen, too. On my drive to the first class, I decided I had three goals for this endeavor: exercise regularly, meet new people/make a friend, and have fun.
The exercise part is a given. My life has been more sedentary than I’d like during these winter months, and I’m happy to have scheduled, structured time to move my body, even if it’s only once a week for now. As far as making friends goes…I’m doing my best. Which is going about as well as those middle splits.
Just before starting the next combination across the floor, I look at the dancer next to me, a kind woman about my age (i.e., also a geriatric dancer) with whom I spoke the week before. “How are you?” I ask, frowning empathetically after she responds. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” I offer. “Glad you’re here tonight!” Confusion furrows her brow, and I realize I must have misheard her. She tips her head to the side, waiting for my explanation. “Um, I thought you said it was a rough week,” I say. Nope. Apparently, she said she was doing well and asked me how I was doing.
“Ooooh, sorry,” I mumble, then add, “Must’ve been hearing my own internal monologue about that rough week!” hoping she’ll laugh with me. Instead, she grimaces with concern. The music starts and we both turn to face ourselves in the mirror. One of us has flushed cheeks. There is a complex choreography to making friends in adulthood, and it feels hard tonight. I’m thankful for the familiar pop beats and the combination of energy and nostalgia they bring forth. There was a time when my cousin and I dressed up as the Spice Girls and lip synced this song for our adoring fans (a.k.a. our parents, grandparents, and any aunts and uncles who couldn’t escape the room in time). Back then, I liked being Ginger Spice and Posh Spice. Now, I suppress a chuckle as I consider possible new aliases: Ancient Spice. Tired Spice. Awkward Spice.
Thank goodness the fun part comes more naturally than finding my next bff. On the first week of class, I only did the modified versions of the more challenging steps. I wanted to be cautious, knowing that previous dance experience and adrenaline would only go so far, and I didn’t want to be icing my crotch for two days afterward. Now, I’m feeling more empowered, most likely due to the alchemy of endorphins. But maybe it’s also from the way these black leather shoes hug my feet, the way it feels to complete a piroutte, the way being in a dance studio lets me remember myself. This week, I go for it. I do a grande jeté. To my surprise, I see in the mirror that I look slightly more like a graceful gazelle than the uncoordinated gremlin I imagined. My fellow dancers—mostly twenty-somethings, one of them a super fit ballerina-bodybuilder—whoop and cheer for me. I feel like someone should blast “Defying Gravity” from Wicked. I realize I might actually need to ice my crotch later. Later, I decide to do the out-of-shape-nearly-forty-year-old version of the splits. I’m stuck on the floor for a bit longer than when I was fifteen, but I’m also laughing. I don’t need a reminder that this is supposed to be fun. This is fun.
The dance floor has been my happy place since I was three years old. It’s where I always felt strong and capable; where my talent and skills could flourish; where I could count on escape, release, and fun. At nearly forty, I have no expectations that my body is going to do anything without some complaining knees or rebelling quadriceps. I am no longer a competitive teenager vying for the best pirouette—I’m simply hoping to do the turn without tipping over from dizziness. The women here are literally cheering for me. The teacher is letting us dance to the Spice Girls. I can strut, body roll, and shake my booty without needing to stop because What is that smell? Oh my gosh, I’m burning dinner! Or without my daughter saying, “Ew! Stop, Mom!” What’s more fun than that? Okay, maybe the lyric, “ah, zig-a-zig-ahhhh?” Oh, and trying to make friends in middle age.
It’s been awhile since I’ve shared here, but I’ve been keeping busy with writing, dancing, awkward social encounters, and staying home with my kids on the 487 snow days we’ve had since the holiday break. It’s good to be back, and I look forward to sharing more with you in the months to come.
In Case You Missed It:
a few things I wrote…
Weirder than Weird Barbie A post on the Literary Mama Blog about the Barbie to whom I most relate at this point in my life (Hint: She’s not actually a Barbie!)
Mothers Who Make: Returning to Dance Okay, so this is not exactly a post I wrote, but an interview for Heidi Fiedler’s series Mothers Who Make. It was fun to share a little bit about my journey back to dance and the role of creativity in my life.
MEGOT Status A post about winning Mother of the Year, inspired by Exhale Creativity’s “Acceptance Speech” prompt
How to Talk to Your High School Crush Published in honor of my 20th high school reunion (!) Also, proof I’ve always been this awkward
Reading Round-Up:
Here are a few of my favorites from the past month. I’d love to hear what you’re reading, too! Please leave your recommendations in the comments.
Happiness Falls by Angie Kim
Mia's father is missing, and the only person who knows what happened is her younger brother, Eugene, who is non-speaking. I loved this mystery, told from Mia's quirky perspective. It's suspenseful but not dark, with short chapters and tension that keeps the pages turning quickly.
The Wrong Way to Save Your Life by Megan Stielstra
I fell in love with Megan Stielstra’s writing last year when I read Once I Was Cool. This collection wowed me even more; it’s full of raw, honest, and powerful essays that share the thread of fear (but also love and strength).
How to Stay Married by Harrison Scott Key
Tender writing about an extramarital affair that is also hilarious and irreverent. I left with a lot of questions: about faith & marriage, how we write about our loved ones, and how the heck HSK got his wife’s permission to share with such candor.Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano
This story about the four Padavano sisters explores how trauma (and love) can permeate generations; plus a side of Little Women, Chicago, and basketball.
Looking for more book reviews? Here is a list of my 2023 reads with reviews and affiliate links to purchase through my bookshop.org shop. The links above are also affiliate links and provide a small kickback if you make a purchase after clicking.
Reflection/Journal Prompt:
What did you do for fun as a kid? In high school? During college? When is the last time you did one of those activities? If it’s been awhile, make a realistic plan to incorporate something fun into your week. It could be as simple as having a dance party after dinner, painting with your kids, or playing outside.
Which Spice Girl are you, and why? (Original five, or make up your own.)
How has your body changed with age? Make a list of some of the changes, then use it to write a prayer of thanks for your body.
Thanks for making me laugh out loud and reminding me it’s okay that friendships are hard.
I loved How to Stay Married & Hello Beautiful, and have Wrong Way to Save Your Life waiting to be read!