“Step into your power,” my therapist once told me. I do not remember the exact circumstances in which she disseminated this well-meaning platitude, but her words struck a chord with me. Empowerment. What does that behemoth of a word mean?
I want to talk about empowerment in the context of dating and relationships, which is a salient component of my life at age 27. I meet a lot of guys at salsa dancing, and because of my advanced skill level, I am never want of male attention at social dance parties. Dance is my joy, and I let my essence radiate on the dance floor, and people tend to be drawn to that.
The past few weeks, I’ve danced extensively with this guy who I’ll call Jimmy. He is, ostensibly, a player. Or a “playboy”, as my mom would call him. He’s charming, good-looking, and dances with a boyish grin on his face that makes you smile back. Last night, we spent the entire beginner bachata lesson dancing with each other, when you typically would rotate partners. But he and I were having a blast together, so we stayed glued to the hip– literally. We danced for almost an hour together after the lesson, and eventually he was the one who suggested we take a break from each other so we could dance with other people. I obviously did not protest to his request, but inside, I scowled. I wished I could dance with him the whole night.
I caught him on the way out as he was leaving the venue, and the go-getter in me shouted his name. He turned around, a look of recognition spreading on his face. I don’t know if he was pleased or perturbed to see me, but he smiled politely. He was tired and admitted as much. We chatted for a few more minutes before he left, and I walked back inside the studio, wondering what just happened. Did I hope he would make an advance and reciprocate my interest? I would love to hang out with him outside of once-a-week salsa at Space 550. I hoped he would say, “Hey, we should meet up sometime outside of here!” Expectation. The thief of all joy. I should be grateful that I shared fun and precious moments with him on the dance floor, however fleeting they may have been. I should be happy that a hot guy seemed to take an interest in me, at least in the moment.
Now, the deep thoughts begin. Was I acting from a place of empowerment when I shouted after him as he left the party? I all but chased him outside the door. I recognized him from the back and made my interest known. And worse yet, I had been drinking last night, and when I’m inebriated, I lose all sense of self control. So I texted him later that night (aka, this morning), saying that I was serious about him being my assistant for the salsa social I’m to teach at the country clubs (even though the main reason I invited him was not for his dance skill, but because I wanted to get close to him). As of the writing of this post, 11:07am, he hasn’t replied my text. He’s not interested. And I’m plagued with feelings of rejection, which come part and parcel with the dating game.
If I had truly been an empowered woman, would I have let him leave the door without hollering after him like a desperate puppy? I think I was acting out of desperation, which isn’t a good look, and will only drive men away, because who wants to be with a clingy girl? At the same time, I’m a person who goes after what she wants. I see something, or someone, I like, and chase after it with intensity. This drive serves me well in my career, but can be off-putting for people.
So now the million dollar question remains: should I go back to salsa dancing next Friday, and subsequent Fridays, in the name of pursuing him? Is the only reason I go to salsa dancing to dance with him, and only him? Clearly, he wants to dance with other people as well. And he should! That’s the whole point of social dancing, to meet new people. I noticed that when we parted ways on the dance floor, I was utterly bored out of my mind. I had my sights set on no one but him. Salsa and bachata are fun dances, with the right partner, but they don’t challenge me technically in the way ballroom does. My focus remains on competitive ballroom dancing. Social dancing is a carefree outlet, but it doesn’t help my ballroom technique in any way. So what’s the point of going, if this guy is clearly not interested in me?
Reasons to go to Friday night salsa:
- It’s fun. I get to play dress up, do my makeup, and act my age for one day of the week. Just a 27 year-old woman having the time of her life.
- Potential for finding new students.
- Potential for meeting new love interests.
- Jimmy.
Reasons not to go to Friday night salsa:
- Jimmy. I vowed to myself a long time ago that I do not want to form unhealthy attachments with people. I can love people, sure, and care for them, but I don’t want it to spiral into obsession. And I know myself. I can get infatuated and attached very easily, to people, experiences, goals. In the name of actively counteracting my habit, I should purposely distance myself from those who I feel attachment towards. Give myself some space to breathe. Attachment brings about disempowerment. It’s this idea that I can’t be happy without this person or object of desire.
- Alcohol. I am always compelled to drink at salsa dancing. It’s just what people do, at these venues. I’m committed to sobriety, and I need to prioritize that.
- Lack of sleep. I dance until past midnight on Friday nights. Saturday morning, I need to be up at 8am to teach. That’s sub-eight hours of sleep, which is no bueno for people like me.
I guess the verdict is that I should stop going salsa dancing, in the meantime. At least until I’ve released myself from attachment to Jimmy, so I can reclaim my personal freedom and sanity. This is empowerment, right here. Choosing to fight your impulses and listen to your wise mind. The player in me wonders, will the distance make him miss me? Well, if he was never interested to begin with, he probably wouldn’t give two shits. But a girl can hope.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Until next time!
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