Single Entity

I like dancing. This should be clear by now, if you know me, or even if you've read what I've written on this blog from time to time. Today, however, I want to talk about social dancing. I mean by that Social Dancing, the kind with steps and everything. I went to a swing dance every Sunday of last semester, and I found out something very interesting about myself. First of all, the population of a New England social dance is mostly older folks. Not nearly everyone, but a significant white-haired contingent, of an age to have done swing dancing when it was originally in vogue.

To tie into my post on dressing, I always went to the swing dance in a skirt or dress, frequently one that I'd made. First of all, I like wearing dresses, feeling feminine. Second of all, it's just more fun to dance in something with a little swish. I was on most occasions the most "dressed-up" female in the room.

I had only been attending for a couple weeks when I started getting comments from some of the older gentlemen, along the lines of "it's good to see you, and you're looking very fine as always." I think that in some way, I reminded them of how women dressed when they were younger, a certain sense of decorum and, well, being dressed for the world. There was one gentleman in particular who told me it was a treat to see a young lady in a nice dress.

What this led to, in turn, was that I liked eliciting that reaction. I'm making a lot of assumptions here, but I liked giving those guys a reminder of their younger days. I liked dancing with them, liked thanking them effusively when the dance was over, and hopefully giving them that feeling of dancing with someone who might just be interested in you, because even though I had no interest in that way, it's how I think I act when I dance. I have no confirmation or denial from an outside source, but I laugh, I giggle, I smile until my face hurts, and I genuinely enjoy every second of that dance, and that's a little how flirting feels to me. And though it feels like hubris to say it, or assumption of more power than I actually have, I liked the thought that I might be bringing those men the feeling that a young woman was interested in them, though nothing would come of it, of giving the barest hints of a sexual consciousness.

I suppose the best way to say it is that I felt that I was in some way spreading my joy in dancing to the people who danced with me, and I sincerely hope that's true, because I hope that everyone someday feels at least a part of how I feel when I dance, even if they find it in their own individual ways.