The lessons are not the experience I was expecting. Though I don't make it a habit to have clear expectations about anything. Still, the surprises are aplenty. That David even agreed to take dance lessons is remarkable. To be fair, we've not spent much time together in places we could take lessons, and then there was all that pregnancy and infant care stuff for years. But his commitment to weekly lessons as well as weekly practice at a local dance scene has demonstrated to me that my husband can definitely still surprise me.
Another thing I've learned is that I'm not as good a dancer as I thought. One gets an idea in their head about who they are, and it takes hold. Eventually, it's tested. Sure, I was disappointed, but it's also somewhat refreshing to know that I don't know myself as well as I thought.
The other thing about lessons is how male dominated it is. Obviously, the man leads. I used to think I was a good follower, but I have been taught to hold on with every finger, but otherwise let my arms hang like dead weight and stay close. I should not anticipate any move but rather let myself be directed at the whim of my partner. I suppose I should then look as graceful and sexy as possible within the narrow parameters of his directives on my every step.
But we haven't gotten that far in our lessons. In fact, any flourish on my part is "distracting" to my husband, and any coy smile or squeal of approval is deemed "mocking." Granted he does have much more work to do: having to know in advance which of the countless variations on the steps he will direct me to take in order to give me the natural sign beforehand so I can move with ease and in perfect rhythm with him.
Faced with the conundrum of so many women whose guy isn't as into dancing as she is, the true work on my side is how to keep my husband interested so I can keep dancing with him!
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