Dancing down the street

Today I had a lovely day at Buxton Heath with my course mates, followed by delicious fish and chip with Maya and Steph before heading home to my best friend and the love of my life, my bed. On the way home though, something struck me and I think I had a moment of suddenly seeing things a bit more clearer. I stood by a bus stop next to the pleasantly busy street called Earlham rd. Cars were driving passed me and people close by were busying off to wherever they were going. I had about 10 minutes before the bus was going to arrive and I was listening to my current obsession; I’m a ruin by Marina and the Diamonds. I stood there and thought to myself that I really wanted to danse to this amazing anthem, I could really feel my body tingling with the need to moove, but controlled the urge and remained rigid on the pavement. didn’t sing, not even lipsink, and definitely didn’t dare to move. I then thought to myself quite angrily “WHY??!”. Why can’t I dance or sing? Who is stopping me? I realized that I was afraid of judgement, from being laughed at, from being identified as different from what society has told me how to behave, and that made me angry. I suddenly remembered the time my friends got so imbarressed about the time we sang a few lines in public (because we just wanted to) and that they were mortified that someone may have heard them. I remembered all the times I have felt uncomfortable when people have been openly singing or been loud in public, in broad, soberly dailight. I remebered the time my friends admitted that they judged people who acted different and expressively in public, labelling them lame, loosers or weird. Why do we live in this world? Why aren’t I allowed to dance for myself by a bus stop? Is it only acceptible if I am a kid or drunk? Am I otherwise just immediatley assumed “not quite right”.

I thought to myself that I am tired of this rigid exteria demanded by society and fueled by my own fear of standing out. So I danced. I hummed to the melody and shaked my ass to the beat. I felt NO shame. Immediately I felt a smile creep on my face. I don’t know if it was the dancing or the fact that i gave my middle finger to society, but it felt good. I felt limitless. I got braver and braver, although shyness creeped upon me when walkers approaching got to close, but I challenged myself to keep on dancing instead of giving into the fear.

And the judgement? Did not notice any. But I thought to myself that even if I did see a judging glare that it was irrelevant. Honestly, when you think about it, who is really the looser? The person doing no harm just dancing by themselves or the person who took the time out of their day and the effort in their brains to even care and judge. What a miserable life they must lead. Whatever nasty mean things they think is gonna stay with them. If you are happy, you don’t need to care. Just keep doing what makes you smile. I danced all the way from where the bus dropped me off to home. It felt so liberating and uplifting.

I challenge you to do something you have wanted to do but have always been afraid of doing because you were stopped by what others might think. If they laugh, they are the loosers. Do you want your little (but beautiful) glimpse of an existance between so many others be lived rigid at a bus stop or dancing down the street?

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