It's taken me a week, but I am finally over the embarrassment associated with this image. This is a picture taken of me on my thirty-fourth birthday. As you can see, I am dancing with abandon on stage at a bar. I know! Fortunately you can not hear the out of tune, drunken singing that accompanied this dancing as I was belting out the chorus to "Jessie's Girl" to the best of my drunken recollection.
As I said, looking at this picture I was initially embarrassed, but then I began to really look at it. In this picture is a woman who is having an incredible time and just doesn't give a crap what anyone else thinks. I was waving my hands around, shaking my money-maker and singing (badly) at the top of my lungs simply because it felt great. And you know what? The response I got was amazing. I was actaully hit on by men in their late twenties! Of course, my husband was there, rolling his eyes at the inept attempts these men (boys, really) made to dance with me (I think one of them was high on Ecstasy) and chuckled as I sent them packing, but it got me thinking. Why didn't I have this kind of self-confidence when I was their age? I'm not even talking about meeting men, I mean in general. I remember a hesitancy about myself at their age and I think its absence is what drew so much attention. There is something to be learned from this experience.
What if we all stopped caring what everyone else thought and did what felt right? Not only would we get more pleasure out of life, but we'd wind up doing more of the right things and taking more chances. I don't want to look back in another ten years and wonder the same thing I am now about my thirty-four-year-old self. Instead, I want to look back and know I did what I wanted to do without holding back. Maybe I'll frame this picture to remind me.
PS - As you can see, my twenty-two year-old sister in-law, Candi, who is pictured with me, has already learned this lesson.
4 comments:
Hell yeah Mary! Not only do we all need "The Rest" once a day, we all need the "I Don’t Give A Shit If Your Looking, I'm Rockin Out!" once a week. And if we can’t rock out once a week… no forget that, we can all dance like a fool at least once a week! Even if it’s in the frozen food aisle at the A&P (have you ever noticed that supermarkets have some really good jams – like Stevie and Michel and James, OH MY?) or brush in hand sinning Prince as you get dressed. There is far to much button-down, trying to-be-civil, attempting-to-be-cool going around. And you know what the Fonz knows that none else did? Being cool’s about not giving a fuck what anyone else thinks. So go out there and dance on the bar while young men on psychotropic drugs hit on you! Rock the Casba despite the rolling eyed critique of well quaffed, miniskirted, lip-glossed brats. Because if the worst think you wake up with is a bruised big toe and a mild ringing in your ears, your doing all right.
And Mary, your doing A+.
ROCK ON!
Oh yeah... and I am soooo bummed I wasnt able to dance on that bar right along with you!
Perhaps Sunday?
HELL TO THE YES!
What if we all stopped caring what everyone else thought and did what felt right?
Good question! And this is a guiding principle (probably THE guiding principle) by which i try to live my life. I am reading a great book right now that kind of looks at the way we let the thoughts of other people (and our own inner critic) keep us from peace and wholeness. A quote:
"The closer you are to sensing your own immediate aliveness, the closer you are to the soul"
Based on this picture, you were ALL SOUL this night.
ROCK. THAT. SHIT, SIS.
oh, and i forgot to mention:
#1) i dance like this twice a week as a rule.
#2) this pic is going on my myspace page.
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