I didn’t go to many “dances,” in high school. I use the quotation marks because many in attendance didn’t dance; they stood around the perimeter of the room, admired those courageous to dance (especially in front of others), and talked as if they were the “cool kids.” I remember thinking, Why did I pay to get into this thing? Why didn’t we do something else? I could think of less stressful things to do. And those things would be free!
There were a few times I gathered enough courage to ask a girl to dance. When they politely said “No,” it was somewhat a relief. That said, somewhere deep in my brain, I wonder if I filed the rejection away. Rejection upon rejection upon… When they said “Yes,” my anxiety went through the roof. Seriously? I was just doing what I was supposed to do. You were supposed to say something like “No thanks” and we move on with our lives. Now what do I do?
Strangely enough, I would attend a “dance” from time-to-time, guessing I suppose that this dance would be different than the last one. It never was.
I’ve now taken some time to learn more about myself: my personality, the way “I’m wired,” etc. It’s been insightful, while also being a little too honest at times. When I observe people in crowds, I often wonder how many are struggling with similar things? How many are learning about themselves? My guess is not many.
For what it’s worth, rejection still hurts. And funny enough, when I hear “No,” I take it personal, regardless of how many times I attempt to convince my brain not to. Dance with you? Ha. What would other people think? always outweighs Maybe they’re just tired of dancing. This isn’t their song. Etc.
Is a high school dance a petri dish of life? Maybe. And for whatever reason, some don’t care to dance.
Haven't heard from you lately and hope all is well with you.
Stairway To Heaven was always the worst.