Jive Talkin’
At what age do people start to pretend they can’t dance? I assume it’s somewhere around 12, when school dances become “a thing” by which to mingle and size each other up. Maybe these can’t-dancers had an awkward encounter or two on the strobe-lit gymnasium floor, but more likely is that they saw other people who were really confident dancers and promptly self-proclaimed for the rest of time, “I can’t move like that.” My heart breaks just thinking about it.
I recently walked up from the subway into my neighborhood square where a family band was covering some oldies for one of our community market days. There was a fake patch of grass set up in front of the stage platform where toddlers in the audience were absolutely losing their shit to “We Got The Beat”. The kids ran around in circles, bopped to and fro, skipped, twirled, clapped and I even saw a natural progression of head-banging. Never once did they look around to all the adults, wondering how they were being perceived. They were just FEELING themselves and it was magnificent.
I’ve seen this same sense of wild abandon on my fair share of dance floors, but certainly never above the influence, and never without some degree of self-consciousness — furtive glances around the room, staunchly keeping to one’s own circle of friends, doing a really funky move and then laughing it off like it was just a joke. We’re always covering our tracks for ways that we might embarrass ourselves, especially in situations as social as a dance floor.
Many claim that they just naturally aren’t social creatures, they just “don’t like dancing!” I call bullshit. That’s as weird, to me, as saying you don’t like music. It goes against human nature — or more accurately, animal instinct. I’m not here to talk about how dancing=sex or vice versa, and you don’t have to be seeking partnership to be out on a floor swinging your hips and hair. But what it takes to truly enjoy yourself (in both worlds) is a level of comfort with your own body.
I feel strongly about the notion that there are no good dancers or bad dancers. There are simply people who are more comfortable with themselves and those who are less. The truth is, your body will always respond to music. It’s how much you allow it that makes the difference. And while the instinct may be universal, this comfort is not simply an aspect that people just have or don’t have. It’s often something that builds over time and is seasoned with experience — actually putting yourself out there.
To the can’t-dancers, I implore you to try again.
One way to build a certain confidence is by seeing what you look like in the mirror at home. There is no shame in this! If you so desperately don’t want to look dorky in public, throw on some Beyoncé at home and wiggle around until your reflection is doing something that you like and that feels good! Even better, put your entire library on shuffle and see how differently you move to the variety of songs that come up. Slow, fast, trance, pop, metal, your body will always respond. The more you pay attention, the more you can decipher what it is that you truly enjoy and gets you going. That energy will translate effortlessly when you are on a dance floor surrounded by others who showed up for the same jive.
Just make sure that by the time you get comfortable enough to go dancing that you dress comfortably enough to dancing. I’ll never understand the high-heeled, drunken-wobble girls busting out of their push-up bra and constantly adjusting the skin-tight dress’s hem as it creeps up the highest part of their thighs. Totally understandable if that stuff empowers you and makes you feel sexy, but if you’re dressing that way because you think it’s what works to get noticed, or what guys want to see, it is guaranteed that dancing with confidence and comfort as your partners works about a million times better.
Imagine yourself in a meet-cute complete with witty banter, impressive vocabulary and layers of subtext. Now imagine the same effect on the dance floor, but using only body language and moves that are unique to you. Hey, look how attractive you are! Wanna go dancing sometime?
