On The Way To Happy

God, I know what it is that I miss from my marriage; dancing. Oh, that’s right, we didn’t dance together. I do, however, miss dancing around my house in my own world or dancing in the seat of my car. My daily dancing and singing ceased after my ex moved his office into our home some years previously, a move that was the major reason our marriage was finally pushed to the brink. But, I’ve always been that dancing girl, singing. Music has played the most pivotal role in my life whether I was dealing with loss, happiness, disappointment, victory, love, anger or whatever my mood at any given time. Once my ex was in my space, day and night, my dancing and singing became non-existent. Even my kids recall mornings driving to school, playing particular songs and us all singing them at the top of our lungs. My kids didn’t know it at the time, but it was designed to put them in a good mood at the start of the day. And it seemed to work, singing mornings usually ended once the car doors opened and each child rolled out of the backseat with backpack swinging out and around their shoulders as they smiled and headed into their classrooms.

One of the most important tasks in the journey post divorce is finding the “new” you or sometimes uncovering the old soul. My initial journey led me to consider dance classes. I needed to learn a new dance discipline: I tried belly dancing. It didn’t take but a few lessons for me to realize it wasn’t my thing. Then I saw and ad for lessons to “pole dance”.  I thought about the Housewives of New Jersey last year. The old Cougar ladies trying to swirl around on the pole, actually acting like they were pretty hot looking and I’d bet most people watching just felt sorry for the old gals. The imagery of that episode made me wince. Oh hell no. But, below the pole dancing ad, was a snippet about Burlesque dance. There we go.

I wouldn’t say I’m the most coordinated of dancers after two lessons. And there’s something to say about costumery, my yoga pants and high heels don’t really fit the mood of the music. But, I’m not dancing for a mate or even a potential lover. I’m dancing for me. One of the most liberating things I’ve done in years is attend these dance classes. It’s my little secret. It’s my thing to re-wire my brain into thinking I’m sexy after years of my ex telling me I wasn’t. It time for me to focus on me and feeling youthful. And if I ever need to consider a different career, maybe I could audition for a dance troop entertaining nursing homes.