Traumatic Childhood Encounters with Dance and Drama Leave One New Beaumont Resident with a Fear of Dance

One of the reasons I moved from Austin, Texas, to Beaumont, Texas, was to try new things. And by new things, I don't mean inventing new answers to the question "why in the expletive would you ever move to Beaumont?" Although, to be honest, I'm going to start inventing really creative ones (witness protection, persecution due to having graduated from Texas Tech, an addiction to giving money to homeless people, etc.).

So when the opportunity to try belly dancing fell in my lap, I said, "Ok!" But really???

I'm panicking.

First of all, I haven't taken a dance class since the tights incident of '96. Just ask my mom or sister and they will regale you with stories of me throwing temper tantrums and screaming, "It itches!"

Or let's not forget the unfortunate incident where I invited my favorite teacher (Mrs. Henry, third grade, Kent Elementary, Carrollton, Texas) to a night of tap dance where I fell onstage while performing to "Frosty the Snow Man".

Oh! And how about my little explored field of theater? First, a comedy show where I was out-shadowed by the unscripted accident of a fellow comedian falling on cracked eggs. And yes, I did break a thumb at a drama competition.

Ok, now that I am remembering all of these incidents from across my childhood, I'm beginning to understand why I've turned down every invitation to join someone's yoga class (besides my unnatural fear of "ripping one" during class and making a liar out of myself when I say that mine never make a sound).

After all of this, you might ask, "Why then, Christina, do you ever leave your apartment, let alone entertain the idea of your clumsy bum ever attempting to make coordinated movements where strangers can judge, laugh, and shun you from interacting with Beaumont society?"

And my answer: I can't be clumsy forever?

Or... a few months ago I didn't think anyone could make soup from scratch, and now I make perfectly burnt toast?

Um. Someone's making me?

Please help me?

But seriously, I truly believe in leaving your comfort zone. Some of the best experiences in my life came from one stupid moment of not listening to my head, and just acting on instinct (volunteering for a leadership position in college, talking to this furry-haired kid in an honors college study room, turning down the peace corps for a part-time job at Vignette, picking a roommate on Craigslist).

So yes, tomorrow night I am going to go belly dancing.

Mom, I am not wearing tights. But you may still have to drag me to this practice like you used to, with me kicking and screaming.