I never expected that I would dance beyond the requisite wedding dances. Before I started college, dancing was just a strange thing that I had no context for. School dances were always a pretty disappointing affair, as I had no interest in the more lascivious dancing and no context for the slow dances; it boiled down to swaying back and forth in a most unsatisfying fashion. I walked away from those experiences assuming that dancing was simply not for me, but it was not to be.
The wife has, her entire life, been fantastically interested in dancing; when she started college, she followed her interests and joined her college's ballroom team.
The affect on my life was immediate. At once she had much less time to talk to me (we went to different colleges, so this was long-distance talking), but she was also clearly enjoying herself in a way I'd never seen before. And when I went to visit her, I found that our time was truncated so she could go to dance practice. I wasn't upset; on the contrary, I was happy to sacrifice some time with her for a hobby she was so passionate about.
She took me to a few dance lessons, but I didn't do so well. It was a frustrating experience for me. In fact, most of my attempts at formal training in dancing have been painful exercises. I'm not a bad student, necessarily; it's just that the traditional forms of dance education are not well suited to my needs. I've found that, in any format other than standing in a line and going through steps without a partner in front of me, I can learn things pretty quickly.
Heck, you should have seen me back in the day. I was a Dance Dance Revolution pro. You'd think I'd have an easier time moving my feet! But even when the then-girlfriend took it on herself to train me in private, I found that she was completely incapable of teaching me in any meaningful way. I took our lessons as seriously as I am able (read: not very seriously, but I tried), but she couldn't get past the mental block of seeing me as her boyfriend to instead see me as a student. I could tell how eager she was to see me reach a level of being able to dance with her easily, and I felt an amount of pressure from that expectation that caused me to panic. It was unduly stressful for us both, and eventually we agreed that she shouldn't give more lessons like that.
Seeing that, it was on me to learn what I could where I could. I tried to sign up for ballroom lessons at my own college, but the classes were only offered on a night that conflicted with my orchestra rehearsals. So the only way I could get any experience was by going to the occasional social dance with her whenever I was visiting.
I did my best. I was terrible! But I persevered. I was paralyzed by the idea of dancing with anybody else; I was certain I was such a terrible dancer that I would ruin anyone's time by dancing with them, and that the girlfriend only tolerated it in the hopes that I would one day improve. So I spent a lot of time at those social dances just sitting by myself, watching her spin around all night. I made some great friends, and always had a good time talking to them, but the dancing didn't really take off.
Then, shortly before our own wedding, we went to another wedding, and while we were dancing there, something clicked. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was able to move fluidly and enjoy myself dancing in a way I'd never felt before. The difference was immediately apparent to her, and she threw herself into dancing with me to encourage it as much as possible.
Since then, I've slowly but surely improved; interestingly, the majority of my improvement came after I began working out, and I realized that my own physical condition (especially the strength of my arms) had been holding me back in a big way. The stronger I get, the better a dancer I become; it was a connection that I'd never made before.
Soon, the wife is going to retire from competitive dancing; her last competition will be in November. She and her partner mutually decided that they need to focus on other parts of their lives, and that they've reached the end of their competitive career. I'm pretty concerned about it; it's not that I think it's the wrong decision, but I know how gigantic a part of her life dancing is, and has been since before we got married. I'm not sure what to expect from her, with a hole suddenly appearing in her weekly schedule the size of her heart.
I know that it's going to fall to me, in a large way, to make up for the lack of dancing in her life. And I fully intend to take her out dancing as much as possible. That means, oddly enough, that her dancing less means I'll be dancing more. I can feel a lot of improvement in my own dancing coming, as well, as she focuses more on my improvement and less on her own.
But that's part of being married to someone: it's learning to make their passions your own. And dancing is more fun for me every time I do it. I'll be sad to see her not dancing competitively anymore, but that's just more incentive for me to start competing with her. So if you see a lot more posts about dancing, don't get worried. It's still me -- just a me in a new phase of my life. You can't hold it off forever, no matter how you try.
The affect on my life was immediate. At once she had much less time to talk to me (we went to different colleges, so this was long-distance talking), but she was also clearly enjoying herself in a way I'd never seen before. And when I went to visit her, I found that our time was truncated so she could go to dance practice. I wasn't upset; on the contrary, I was happy to sacrifice some time with her for a hobby she was so passionate about.
She took me to a few dance lessons, but I didn't do so well. It was a frustrating experience for me. In fact, most of my attempts at formal training in dancing have been painful exercises. I'm not a bad student, necessarily; it's just that the traditional forms of dance education are not well suited to my needs. I've found that, in any format other than standing in a line and going through steps without a partner in front of me, I can learn things pretty quickly.
Heck, you should have seen me back in the day. I was a Dance Dance Revolution pro. You'd think I'd have an easier time moving my feet! But even when the then-girlfriend took it on herself to train me in private, I found that she was completely incapable of teaching me in any meaningful way. I took our lessons as seriously as I am able (read: not very seriously, but I tried), but she couldn't get past the mental block of seeing me as her boyfriend to instead see me as a student. I could tell how eager she was to see me reach a level of being able to dance with her easily, and I felt an amount of pressure from that expectation that caused me to panic. It was unduly stressful for us both, and eventually we agreed that she shouldn't give more lessons like that.
Seeing that, it was on me to learn what I could where I could. I tried to sign up for ballroom lessons at my own college, but the classes were only offered on a night that conflicted with my orchestra rehearsals. So the only way I could get any experience was by going to the occasional social dance with her whenever I was visiting.
I did my best. I was terrible! But I persevered. I was paralyzed by the idea of dancing with anybody else; I was certain I was such a terrible dancer that I would ruin anyone's time by dancing with them, and that the girlfriend only tolerated it in the hopes that I would one day improve. So I spent a lot of time at those social dances just sitting by myself, watching her spin around all night. I made some great friends, and always had a good time talking to them, but the dancing didn't really take off.
Then, shortly before our own wedding, we went to another wedding, and while we were dancing there, something clicked. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was able to move fluidly and enjoy myself dancing in a way I'd never felt before. The difference was immediately apparent to her, and she threw herself into dancing with me to encourage it as much as possible.
Since then, I've slowly but surely improved; interestingly, the majority of my improvement came after I began working out, and I realized that my own physical condition (especially the strength of my arms) had been holding me back in a big way. The stronger I get, the better a dancer I become; it was a connection that I'd never made before.
Soon, the wife is going to retire from competitive dancing; her last competition will be in November. She and her partner mutually decided that they need to focus on other parts of their lives, and that they've reached the end of their competitive career. I'm pretty concerned about it; it's not that I think it's the wrong decision, but I know how gigantic a part of her life dancing is, and has been since before we got married. I'm not sure what to expect from her, with a hole suddenly appearing in her weekly schedule the size of her heart.
I know that it's going to fall to me, in a large way, to make up for the lack of dancing in her life. And I fully intend to take her out dancing as much as possible. That means, oddly enough, that her dancing less means I'll be dancing more. I can feel a lot of improvement in my own dancing coming, as well, as she focuses more on my improvement and less on her own.
But that's part of being married to someone: it's learning to make their passions your own. And dancing is more fun for me every time I do it. I'll be sad to see her not dancing competitively anymore, but that's just more incentive for me to start competing with her. So if you see a lot more posts about dancing, don't get worried. It's still me -- just a me in a new phase of my life. You can't hold it off forever, no matter how you try.
No comments:
Post a Comment