I Danced. Tango, I did. Tonight.

No holds barred, no nervous laughter to stall the inevitable bolkada, no time-consuming questions, which my teacher says he enjoys anyway.

None of the distracting tactics [now I have to think of new ones] to stop the dance from pushing through. I bit my tongue, I focused on the music, I let the connection take over.

And I danced. Tango Argentina. Slow and sentimental. Quick and snappy. Languid but liquid. Danced even to the music of the rhumba and the foxtrot. Just danced. Tangoed. I finally let the tango in me out into the open.

And that felt mighty fine. Missteps and miscues and all. Forgotten cues, improvisations and unbalanced moves aside, the tango tonight felt good. Because I know that I did dance, that I set my shyness aside, and just let the tango in me come out.

I finally got it, to get where you want to be, you have to give in and give all you've got. No pain, no gain. No missteps, no improvements. No risk of shameful mistakes, no reward of progressive learning. The lessons have been learned, it was time for the learning to take the dance floor.

I have always wanted to dance, to just let the music move me. So I learned, and tonight I let go. I danced, tonight. And that is only the beginning.

These words from Lee Ann Womack's song sum it for me tonight and for the longest time.
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance


I chose to dance, and I did dance. And I will continue to dance.

Tango, I will. Dance, I will. Live, I will.