Having espoused the feminist cause in the 1980s, it’s with some surprise that I find myself mentally rocketed back to school dances as I learn the tango. Now I adore dancing the tango for all sorts of reasons, mostly that being able to dance with a slightly damaged foot is a thrill and I adore most of the music…….. but. But. There’s a culture about waiting for the guys to ask us to dance and I suspect that my foot is a distractor. Last night I leaned heavily (euphemistically of course) on someone I knew who was clearly reluctant to dance with me…maybe it’s because I am taller than him and uncompliant. Or maybe it’s the foot. Or maybe it’s because of something else.
It does not mean I don’t get dances and have at last begun asking fellows I know to dance. But it does bring back two memories; School dances when I was taller than all the guys and Mum after Dad died, crying in the hallway after she had been out to her first dance without him.
It’s also the interesting (in the ‘I used to be a feminist vein’) to be on dating websites ……….and perhaps that’s enough of that for now.
And yes, of course there’s a duality/binary opposite: It’s also great to be swept up in the arms of a fantastic dancer and swirled knowingly around the room, it’s great to watch others and to watch women leading men (so it’s not all sexist) and it’s great to get dressed up and wear high heels. Maybe I need to go along to queer tango. Maybe I’d better learn to lead. I have no objection, just the skill required to steer. And dating sites? Yes, of course it’s wonderful to feel admired and to flirt and certainly, to meet some interesting characters.
But sometimes it is weird and it feels as if the (mumble) school teenager years are really not that far away.
Sigh. Gain or loss? Gain.