.:dancing queen:.

Jordan and I went to our first dance lesson Monday. We’re what you might call “rhythmically-challenged” people, so we had little hope that any dance lesson could prepare us for our wedding day dance in front of a crowd of 150. We both were terrible at Jamboree, and while I love watching Fred and Ginger on screen, I’ve never had any dancing aspirations of my own.

Until now.

Of course, we’re not experts by any stretch. And I have a feeling we both probably look a little goofy. But you know what? It’s fun! We were both out of breath after our 30 minutes were up, which means either a) we’re ridiculously out of shape, or b) dancing is great exercise (or some combination of the two).

I mess up quite a bit (confession: I think Jordan might actually have more rhythm than I… at least he can hear the beat. After 11 years of piano lessons, I, sadly, cannot.), but I don’t even care. One week ago, I was absolutely dreading getting out on that wooden floor with a handful of other couples, but now… it’s okay. We’re having a good time, and in the grand scheme, isn’t that the goal anyway? We’re even going after work today for an hour-long session (which hopefully will get us ready for next weekend). After that, though, who knows? Maybe we’ll start dancing for fun.

It makes me wonder: how many things do I miss out on things out of fear? Fear of what I’ll look like, if I’ll mess up, if I’ll get hurt… I’ve often been described as an overachiever, for better or worse. I think one of the downsides to this description is that I’m sometimes afraid to attempt anything I might not be just great at. Well you know what? Where’s the fun in that?

I’m no Ginger, but these dance lessons have taught me something: you don’t have to be the best at everything. Sometimes it’s even more fun to fall.