So I went to my dancing class today---we did more of the FoxTrot and Rumba, and my teacher is such a sweetheart. That Latin charm. :)
But I'll get to the point...
There's something about being the oldest person in the room that's full of twenty-somethings, who are learning how to dance. Sure you can make the argument about me being the exception to the rule, but sometimes when my self-esteem is sorta shaky, I just end up feeling old. I don't feel quite as confident as my age would suggest. I feel like a mom, and while that's certainly a worthy occupation, it's not the most glamorous. I have trouble standing up straight and holding my shoulders back because I've spent years and years bent over a nursing baby. Am used to the focus being on someone other than myself. To have to, all of a sudden, be called on to stand tall is a bit strange.
I got tears in my eyes today just thinking about how this is affecting how I look at myself. And while these young women are looking to attract the attention of the young men, I'm only learning to dance for myself. I'm standing up straighter because it's a good thing to do. Am under no false impression that the hordes of men will seek me out, and with my dishy husband, not a hard thing to accept. Realizing that I've reached an age of invisibility is something I've not dwelt on, but today I noticed a young girl walking into the studio and saw how the male teachers gave her the visual once-over. That old mating dance is forever new.
But you know---there's something so incredibly appealing about a long marriage. The comfort of knowing another person so well, who loves you even though you have poor posture and a rocky self-esteem. I'd not go back for anything.
