When I was young and far too impressionable, I met a young man who offered to show me how to dance. Sixteen counts into the song, he threw my arms down and stomped away, saying I was terrible and shouldn’t bother.
I never saw him again, but for more than a decade, some part of me believed him, and simply didn’t try. Years later, when my hiking friends asked if I’d like to carpool to a dancing event. I almost replied, “Oh, no, I can’t dance.”
But it was close to New Year’s, and I was at a stage in my life where most of my resolutions were some form of defiance. I remembered the snooty dancer. I’d never get to “show him” what I could do, but I could certainly show myself who to believe in. So I resolved not only to learn how to dance, but to get comfy with it. And now I love it and dance as often and as in many ways as I can.
Legend of Velda 
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