The Answer Is No

“Being challenged in life is inevitable, being defeated is optional.” – Roger Crawford

Last night was the true test of my fake engagement ring to my fake fiancé. The outcome wasn’t quite what I wanted, but it will do for now. I missed dancing most of last week; my mother was in the hospital. Needless to say, I was very much looking forward to hitting the floor for some close embrace dancing.

First I chatted with a guy that was a few seats over from me. He looked at me the wrong way. I’ve heard it’s a fairly normal reaction for men to steer their gaze straight towards a woman’s cleavage – which is exactly what this guy did when I bent over in my seat to adjust my dance shoe. Not okay. I excused myself saying I needed to refill my water bottle and went to the opposite side of the room where there was fellow tango dancer that I know to some degree and trust him not to eye boggle me or make me feel threatened at all.

Dude, come on! I wasn't even dressed remotely close to this revealing.

Then there was the extremely angry, two-faced tango guy who I’m quite certain asks me to dance for the sole purpose of getting under my skin. I can tell him no, I know this – and yet I never do because I’m still not absolutely certain this action won’t come across as 1) insulting and 2) the Irish Lass looking like a cold-hearted a**hole. So I sat there as I saw him walking towards me thinking to myself, “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact . . . . Crap! I just made eye contact. Then there was the cabaceo – and my immediate reaction is always a smile and a nod. So there I was, dancing next to the devil himself counting down every song and hoping it would be a short tanda. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I like how he looks at me, either – I really need to make a point of avoiding him as much as possible and for the life of me can’t figure out why I haven’t given him the cold shoulder, regardless of how mean some may perceive that act on my part. Is it really worth it? My guess is no. I don’t want to dance with the devil and I certainly don’t want him to touch me, either. Note to self: channel rage.

Yeah . . . That's pretty close to what I felt like.

Later on, I danced an amazing tanda with someone I had only met that evening. That’s one of the beautiful things about this dance. There’s an amazing synchronization of music, movement and synergy in tango that makes it so addictive. It was perfect – until the end when he asked me for my e-mail address. Who the hell are you, guy?  I told him I don’t give my contact information out to people I don’t know.

 . . . or my e-mail, or my real name.

I pride myself on nearly making it to the end last night. I headed out as the last set of the evening was playing. I ran into an acquaintance on the way out. He mentioned he had been in California. I said I was jealous and he told me I should go with him next time. Granted he and I have talked during tango and often have a good time together. He’s carefree, has a good sense of humor, and I laugh and smile a good deal when he’s around me – but still, I really don’t feel like I know him enough to pack up and head to California for a weekend. All I could think was, ‘Why?!’ I said nothing in response; I merely stared blankly and walked off – perhaps with a shallow smile on my face.

Did I mention he could probably be a stunt double for Chris Hemsworth? I want to be a stunt double, damnit.

I think I’ve reached the ultimate state of paranoia. Seriously, any male presence that is unfamiliar to me is perceived as a potential threat – even some that I do know but haven’t made a decision on whether or not they are a trustworthy person who has no ulterior motive or ill intention towards me.

Just in case I ever feel lonely and am tempted to seek comfort in the arms of another, I remind myself that no one else can mend my wounded heart . . . and also that tango is a great source of comfort in the arms of another without the emotional turmoil and wreckage that usually comes with it.  I remind myself how emotionally painful it’s been since the Beloved – and for now I’ll simply accept that my depth of feeling for him will make an excellent deterrent from even thinking about dating for a while – a very long while. 

I just want a life that's not entangled with someone else's for a while. 

When I'm not preoccupied with paranoia from fending off unwanted attention, I find that I have to remind myself more often than not to mentally stay put. Stay here. Stay now. This is where I am. I'm the type of person that thinks of every possible outcome before I make a move. Sometimes this serves me well, and sometimes this practice causes me to worry more about things that I don't even need to act on yet . . . and now know why I feel like I'm always running in circles. I've been thinking about the upcoming move and apartment hunting. It occurred to me that the hound has never been alone. He's always had Cassie and since I've been in Portland, I've lived in a very busy house in which there is almost always a human presence. I soon found my mind ridden with anxiety wondering how he would cope with this change and how he's coping with Cassie's absence and how the heck was I going to afford a dog walker or doggy  daycare? Stay here, Irish Lass. You're not there yet. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. For all I know, Merlin the hound will probably be perfectly content to have a couch all to himself all day.

They've attempted to block him from the couch . . . . I know he's quite proud of himself.

Cabaceo

“Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.” – Charlotte Brontë

One of my favorite parts of the tango culture is the ‘cabaceo’. This is how one asks for a dance. I feel like I am honing this down to near perfection. Basically – when two people make eye contact and through a raise of eyebrows or a nod of the head, it is agreed that they will exchange a dance together. I’m not sure if it’s intended to be so, but I add a flirtatious flare to it. I will stare at someone from across the room until I practically burrow a hole into his head. When he can no longer ignore me, I smile coquettishly and raise my eyebrows while slightly gesturing my head to the dance floor. I was recently complimented on my method just because I make it fun.

I will cabaceo you so hard. 

Also, there’s the shoes and dresses. I would be hard pressed to find a woman who does not enjoy an excuse for frilly dresses and shoes.

It seems as though distinct hierarchy exists within the tango community. I haven’t learned how it works exactly – only that there’s a definite ‘in’ crowd and other subsets that  bicker among themselves over what is considered appropriate posture, embrace, footwork, etc. I know some people take this very seriously. I happen to take nothing in life seriously. My experience on this earth is far too short to nitpick at others and I prefer to have fun instead. If there is no fun to be had, I make it happen. Truth.

There are two dancers in the community, both with equally out of the norm styles of dancing. One happens to be very popular, the other is not. He is treated as a pariah within the community and I’ve seen this poor fellow rejected time and time again as he requests dances from women. I’ve always found him fascinating. When I watch him on the dance floor he is experiencing something with the music entirely different from everyone else. I happen to thoroughly enjoy dancing with him because he is so different and also because he’s been so encouraging in my beginning stages of tango.

The popular dancer is someone I’d describe as a live wire – both in his style of dancing and also in his personality. I was equally fascinated by him as I watched him dance. His movements were quick and many; and by the end of the tanda he was often out of the pattern of movement altogether, having created his own track off to a corner somewhere.

I had a discussion with someone about these two dancers. The former was described to me as someone who ‘does not dance tango’ and the latter was described as someone who ‘feels every beat and movement within the music’. From an outsider’s perspective, it all boils down to popularity. Why one style would be accepted over the other is beyond me. I think it’s snobbish and ostracizing. Then again, I’m still a novice and perhaps I know nothing at all.

"Be impeccable with your word. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love." - Miguel Angel Ruiz

I still don't understand why we continue to do this to one another.

Gradually I’ve been branching out to different tango venues. There was a rather large one on a Thursday evening. I was asked to dance a couple of times throughout the evening. I’m more of a social creature than anything at all – so I engaged myself with a couple sitting next to me and learned that they were checking out the tango scene to see if it was something they wanted to learn. I still keep in touch with them and they have decided to give tango a shot. Word.

I was approached by someone later in the evening for a dance. As the milonga ended he asked if I wanted a practice partner. Yes I want a practice partner! Where have you been since I’ve been dancing tango?! I soon learned that he wanted far more than a practice partner. In fact, he was quite serious about me from the beginning.

This is where I’m surprised. I had quite literally been telling men to f*ck off for months because I had grown SO tired of feeling objectified and for my kindness being mistaken for flirtation. No. If I wanted to flirt with you, I’d give you one hell of a cabeceo. This tanguero did not evoke a response of annoyed and suppressed rage that everyone else who dared approach me had received.

I have been nothing short of overwhelmed by the amount of affection he showers on me. I’ve told him as much and have asked him to be patient with me more than anything else. He says he adores me. It’s taking me longer to come around – I’m not quite sure that I’m ready for something of this magnitude and have told him as much. His response was to tell me to go with it. 

I’m taking it in stride. I have no inclinations as to what the future holds. We get along well thus far and yet are so very different in many ways. I wonder if there will be a clash at some point. Perhaps there's an adventure; perhaps there's a tragedy. Perhaps this will only be a mere blink in the span of my life. I struggle with the intensity on his end.

Within the last week or so, I ran into my former beloved at a couple of milongas. The first time we avoided each other for as long as possible. It was crowded that night and the weather was warm. I happened to step outside for air just as he was coming back inside. We couldn’t avoid each other this time. I gave him a head nod. He said hello. That was all there was to it. A few days later we attended the same milonga yet again. This time it was pure avoidance.

If it weren’t for his watchdog pack, I might take a moment to exchange pleasantries with him. Two members of his guardians in particular seem to go out of their way to glare at me – I think they tag team or something. Those two gals are what make the scenario most awkward for me.  Actually, I think ‘hostile’ is a more adequate description. I think there are a few things these two ladies don’t know about me: 1) I don’t care about my reputation 2) I make my own fun 3) I will laugh at you for your attempts to make me miserable 4) I find it flattering that you are putting so much effort into stamping out my presence 5) I’m still laughing.

I'm still laughing, ladies!

While taking another tango course at PSU for my own fun and enjoyment, I met someone I’ll call Nelly. At first, Nelly came across as socially awkward. Also, I know what sort of superficial world we live in. It initially angered me when she attended milongas and wasn’t asked to dance. How can people be so f*cking superficial? I asked myself. Over a few weeks it seemed to be her attitude that kept others at bay. I made it a point to attend every milonga Nelly planned on attending so she’d have someone to keep her company. I would be exhausted after these outings and finally realized the cause of my lethargy was being so close to her, and receiving what she has been putting out into the Universe. 

Nelly seems happier lately. This pleases me because I don't think she realized what kind of energy she was emanating.  In fact, I'd say she's radiant. That's a good start, Nelly. Keep at it. In the words of Rumi: 'Live where you fear to live. Be notorious'. Your perception is your reality and the world is only as good as you make it. Rejection is difficult. I know this. On that note, it’s far more enriching to live life without caring what others think. This is not easy to achieve, but once you get there life is nothing but joyous and beautiful.