Dance is like shedding skin. I am slowly getting to know myself, really becoming aware of my body for the first time. I enjoy pushing myself, I enjoy the repetitiveness, I even enjoy the pain that follows practice. I feel safe, I feel at home, I feel happy. I remember watching dancers on TV when I was younger, admiring their strength, their stamina, their sensuality. Wishing, wanting it so desperately, but too afraid to ask. It was out of the question, my parents would never pay for lessons. Boys don’t dance and the ones who do…well they’re different in the worst possible way. Girly, effeminate, soft, fruity, flaming, faggy, gay. Boys shouldn’t appreciate beauty, it’s better, so much safer to worship mud and dirt, to graze your elbows and knees, to only use your body for running and climbing. Bold, brash and confident. Don’t think before you act, just do it. Being a boy should be automatic like breathing, but I had to think about it. I had to create this other persona, this façade to hide behind. Neutral, somewhere safe in the middle. A little too nice, a little too quiet, but never obvious. If you can’t be aggressive, and God knows I tried, the second best thing is to become invisible, to cease being a person. And then you can start erasing your body. You’ll take up even less space. You’re no fun to mess with because you’re too weak to fight back. The only person who won’t leave you alone is dad, but he can’t hurt you any more because you’ve stopped feeling. You don’t feel sad, you don’t feel happy, you’re not even in the room while it’s happening. And then one day it stops. You’re safe, that’s what they keep telling you, over and over. You have to re-learn everything, replace your fucked-up dictionary, become a boy, a person again. But I am out of control, suddenly aggressive, so confused, who am I really? Am I turning into him? Everything is turmoil, pitch-black angry chaos. Acting out, they call it. Like a pat on the head. This is normal, this is recovery. A return to normalcy, yet I feel anything but normal. I’m fighting myself, fighting my body, I want out. Why is every attempt unsuccessful, what am I doing wrong? Do I want to live after all? I’m not used to feeling, now I’m feeling too much, I’m overwhelmed, please make it stop. There’s no progress, nothing visible to the eye, nothing tangible, I’m not getting well fast enough. I read somewhere that the mind chooses to forget, but the body always remembers. It’s a painful reminder. How can I learn to like myself, to accept my body and its history, the fact that I’m turning into a man? Can I get to know him, little by little? Can I write it out, can I talk about it? Is it safe to explore, to come out of hiding, can I dance now?
I don't think anyone can illustrate dance like Jakob Karr.
21 comments:
You're good, Charles.
You have a right to be whatever you want to, Charlie. Right now you might not be able to see it, but you're a beautiful, talented person. You have a gift with words, and with insight. If you want to dance, then dance. My husband is a big, strong man, and he says that if he could come back in another life, he'd want to be a dancer. There's nothing wrong with dancing. It takes skill, strength, and grace.
The world tells us lies, particularly when we're young. And when we're young, we buy into them because we don't know anything different. Because the people we trust or admire are the ones telling them. But they're still lies, and years from now, you'll look back and see that more clearly.
I remember how long my teenage years felt. I swear one month then was equal to a year now. But one day you'll be an adult, able to do whatever you want to with your life. Able to choose your path, and your community. Those first few years of adulthood will be an incredible time. You'll find people who appreciate you exactly as you are. People who love you for precisely the qualities that others haven't respected.
Hang in there, Charlie. You deserve to be happy.
I should have read it before chatting with you, then I wouldn't have asked this superficial stuff I hope.
Thank you Mr Smith, I call this confusing rambling :) But I wrote for several hours yesterday and it felt really good.
Thank you, Lisa. Your comment means a lot to me, the part about your husband, you've no idea how happy it made me feel. Thanks for your encouragement. I started dancing about a month ago, and I've already made friends in the dance community. It's a wonderful supportive place.
Martin, it's always nice chatting with you.
The feeling of dancing and becoming one with your physical being is exhilarating. Coming to love your body again means so much.
Thank you, Billy. I didn't think anyone would get it! I was trying to write about reclaiming one's body, but sometimes I can't find the right words.
Sometimes you cannot find the right words? I do not believe that. You clearly have a way with words that few people ever have.
I cannot relate to dancing at all, but your words were like a rope, weaving it's way around my heart. Sometimes if felt like a safety rope, your perfectly conducted thoughts carabiners. I was totally suspended with anticipation. At other times, your words were a noose and I had a hard time choking back tears as I recalled the says I contemplated leaving my own skin for good. At the best of times, your words were the rope that someone tosses to an overboard passenger in the sea. I have been sinking for a long time, but these past few months something has been tugging at me and I have been getting closer to the surface every single day. Will you meet me there?
Struggles and tides will not define your life. You will. Don't be afraid to become something unknown, even if its a direction you are afraid to look toward.
Good things happen to good people. I have hated that phrase my entire life, but once I accepted who I am and started living as myself, I saw its truth.
Stop pleasing them, start pleasing yourself. I hope you won't hurt any longer, but I hope you'll replace your numbness with sensitivity.
Jonathon, I've been sitting here for awhile wondering how to respond to your beautiful comment, but all my replies today sound stupid. All I can say is, if you check out early the world will never know you or your beautiful kind words. I'm glad you're still here and I'm glad you're getting closer to the surface each day. You have books to write and I know you'll succeed! The same thing is happening in my life (well not the book part, but you know what I mean) things are definitely getting better :)
Great to hear, buddy!
I love your strength Charleston. It's there whether you know it or not. You're finding your place and that's fantastic. What a wonderful person you are.
YES !!! You can dance now!
Your budding successes at really participating in your own life make me so thrilled and delighted that I want to jump and shout with you. I want to run outside and jump to a high place and shout, "Aye!! Dancin' boy!" and then run up to you and exchange the sweetest kiss - just like Michael did with Billy in that wonderful new classic "Billy Elliot."
PS: Always remember that 'normal' is just a setting on a washing machine.
Thank you so much, Jan. You're an awesome friend to have! I hope you'll get lots of visitors welcoming you to the world of blogging :)
Haha, thank you, Mr (not-so) Anonymous. You make me smile! I quoted you in a comment the other day, about the washing machine :)
Charlie - You are dancing and you are an inspiration. Simply for being who you are, and, beyond that, for how you're evolving. Also, just look at the great people you're surrounding yourself with in this blog world. Lot's of wisdom in the comments.
Sidebar: your post made me remember for the first time in years this football star in my hometown who started ballet in the 5th grade in order to make him a better player. It did & nobody gave him a hard time. Not that it's exactly relevant... but, I don't know, a nice reminder that life is not as black & white as we sometimes think.
Dance! Dance! Dance! Be your awesome self, whatever that means to you.
Thanks for your comment and support, Robert. You should include that memory in one of your books, it's just the sort of thing guys need to hear. That it's okay to be who you are and to try different things.
Do you know Lisa who commented up there, she lives in the northwest as well. Check out her blog :)
Oooh, lovely post. I'm a little envious of your newly-found dancing; I'd love to learn but I'm a little too old, too shy, too out of shape. What always strikes me, when I see dancers on stage, is how completely merged their bodies and selves seem to be. To be able to use your body to express yourself - how dreamy that must be.
Thanks for your comment, kittens. That's precisely why I wanted to take up dancing :) Just that feeling of "wholeness". I don't think anyone's too old to learn, I've seen people take classes who are in their 50's, it depends on the style.
Dancing is good for your soul, I'd say and maybe good for busting out the shell you created in your younger days. I have a feeling it will be a treat to watch you emerge into your butterfly. Thanks for sharing that here.
Greg, thanks for the kind comment. It's definitely helping me overcome my shyness :)
I love this post and that video. I am just reading it now. Not sure how I had missed it.
My son is a dancer. He is 11 and loves it. He is the only boy his age at the dance school. And maybe sometimes other kids bother him about it. But it could just as easily be because they are feeling insecure because his passion for it can make everyone else a little envious.
Thanks for sharing this.
Tina, it makes me really happy to hear that your son is dancer. He sounds like a cool kid. I wish I hadn't waited until high school to start dancing, it's completely changed my life. I hope your son will keep dancing even if others give him a hard time about it. Is he in ballet school?
It's ballet and they mix it up with some more free styles. It's a small, home based school. I'm thrilled to know you dance too. My son is a sensitive kid, but enjoys being different. I'm proud of him for doing it. I hope he has outlets like you do (writing and the dancing and he's also an artist). These are tough years coming up.
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