Fast forward to Thursday evening, following Movie Night with the Key Clubbers when I am sitting in a restaurant with Jason and thumbing through Facebook on my phone (romantic, I know). I see that the librarian has linked a page of event pictures to her Facebook, so I flip through those. And. there. I. am. I am highly skilled and extremely talented at detecting and deflecting any camera in my vicinity. I have been this way for a long (LONG) time. I joined the Yearbook Staff in high school for the main purpose of making sure my photo appeared nowhere other than the mandatory mug shots. In my ten years of teaching at the high school, I'm pretty sure I only managed to endure three photo day pics. This, was not one of those years.
There are people who don't like to have their pictures taken... and there are folks who just can't take a good pic. I am both of those people... but so SO much more. I am not one to exaggerate medical (or psychological) conditions, quite the opposite. I am very quick to minimize and ignore them. However, I think it is quite possible that I have true blue panic attacks about having my picture taken or seeing my picture when I can't avoid it. Thursday night at the restaurant after seeing the unexpected picture, which I didn't even realize was taken, I began to hyperventilate. I had to talk myself through calm breathing and try not to look to psychotic in public... or before Jason, who just wouldn't understand. He doesn't like his picture taken but thinks my response is over-reactive. But I just can't help it. I have cursed at elderly family members that wouldn't stop pointing cameras at me. I have avoided attending events that I know would have cameras flashing.
The thought of addressing it, even though at a later date, is causing me to feel a little nauseous now, so let's move on....
Friday night, following our Red Cross Blood Drive (yes, it was a busy week), the Key Clubbers were guests at Zuni Presbyterian Homes for a Thanksgiving Dinner & Dance.
The older Cameron grows, the more differences I see between him and Justin. One thing they definitely have in common though is their ability to dance.
At Friday night's dance, I told Cameron they must have "got it from somewhere." While I was being facetious, I did love to dance. I so(!) loved to dance. I don't think I missed a single dance from junior high through Senior year. I had no qualms about jumping on stage and shaking my booty. And once I could get into clubs, I found every chance I could to go and hit the dance floor. As long as I could just drag one friend along with me (I wasn't that much of an exhibitionist), I didn't care if we were the only two on the floor all night long.
I guess it was post-married life that the chances to lose it all on the dance floor came fewer and farther between... until they just no longer existed. Don't get me wrong... I have zero delusions that I was ever good at dancing. Ever. But I just didn't care. It was fun and I enjoyed it and that was always enough. I never learned any of the line dances, not even the Electric Slide. I always told myself I would go on Youtube and figure out how to do it before the next school dance, but I didn't. I think I could get out there on the floor with the kids and have some fun doing that... but actually would be too self-conscious learning it on the dance floor, or not looking like I knew what I was doing, in general.
It is something far greater than the fear of feeling self-conscious in front of the kids that stops me... it's the fear of their... social media.
I was reading, took a break but will be going back, to a memoir called "I Dare Me" about a woman who tried something new every day for a full year. Why it wouldn't technically be "something new," I was really channeling the things she wrote about- what she got from the experiences- to try to knock down some of the barriers I built around myself and enjoy myself Friday night. I do not think I will ever be presented with a less judgmental atmosphere to enjoy myself dancing. The mentally-challenged adults who are the residents at the facility certainly were not that interested in my "moves." As far as the kids there, I have to allow myself to think as far as "my" kids go, they are a group that respects me enough that they wouldn't take videos of me dancing and post on-line. But they might... So I couldn't...
Last song was called, The YMCA, and I nestled myself into a tight group and had some fun on the dance floor. It was short-lived but brought back some of those liberating free-spirited times of years before. I think I need to find ways to embrace chances at those moments more...