Depending on the context in which you know me, you may or may not know how much I love to dance. I have no training — my kind of dancing is the kind where the beat and melody slowly take control of my body. It can happen in the club, a living room, or even the grocery store. I close my eyes, release control, and just let my body move.
I have been insecure about my body lately. I go through bouts of disliking every ounce of softness, every disproportioned curve, every freckle on my body. I am currently in that space and have been for longer than I care to admit. It’s not as bad as it has been in the past but I am super aware of my short legs, thick thighs, jiggly arms, soft belly and the multitude of split ends that hang from a head in desperate need of a haircut. Rather than obsess about my insecurities though, I work on healthy habits — exercise, healthy food, lots of water, etc.
Today I made myself a special dinner. Not for any particular reason, just because I wanted a really delicious yet healthy meal. For a variety of reasons, I rarely pamper myself in that way. When I was finished eating, I put on a pair of heels, turned up the music, and let the beat carry me away. When the music is loud, the look and feel of my body no longer matters. Song after song I let my body move and take on new shapes as the music demands. I forgot how a pair of heels has the power to add magic to every step. No thinking, no intention, just moving.
Tonight was a beautiful night. I danced to the music and remembered the pure joy that comes when body and melody are in sync.