Dear Journal,

I gave myself permission to have fun today. I went to a swing dancing lesson at Austin Swing Syndicate, invited by a friend of PlebLab. I had never been to a dance lesson before.

I was unusually calm when I arrived alone. I hesitated only for a minute or two before entering the building. When the guy at the entrance asked if I was a member, I told him no, it was my first time dancing. That was not only the truth but also a subtle hint that I had no idea what to expect. He seemed genuinely pleased to hear it was my first time and told me the lesson would start at 8:15 p.m. in the room down the hallway. I asked if it was true that any shoes were okay, since that’s what I’d been told. He said yes. There was nothing standing between me and dancing anymore.

When I entered the large ballroom, which could easily fit over 100 people, not many were there yet. There were seats along the edges, and I picked one in a corner to scan the room from a safe distance. There was one larger group who apparently knew each other, but, like me, a few people were standing or sitting alone. I considered talking to someone nearby, but he didn’t pay attention to me, so I quickly abandoned the idea.

That's when she walked in with a friend. She looked similar enough to the friend who also wanted to come but couldn't make it that I might have looked at her long enough for her to notice.

I wasn't sure, though, because it was her friend who saw me first. I nodded when our eyes met, then looked away. I could already tell she was quickly becoming the person in the room I was most interested in, and I didn't want that to ruin my night before it even began. I quickly abandoned the idea of approaching her.

When the lesson started, we all stood in a big circle while the teachers, a woman and a man, explained the basic six steps of East Coast Swing and emphasized that it's important to have fun and loosen up. I made a secret game out of having more fun than the person next to me who hadn't paid attention to me earlier, and I started to enjoy being there.

After that, they told the leaders to move to the opposite end of the room, while the followers stayed where I already was. At first, I stayed put until I realized I was basically surrounded by women. I saw her again, smiled at her, and whispered that I think I should go to the other side. I don’t really remember if she even looked at me or heard me.

Separated into groups, the teachers were now explaining how to dance with a partner. That's when I saw the friend who had invited us for the first time, and I felt a little more watched for a brief moment. However, I also realized that I was actually happy the other friend hadn’t come, because it allowed me to experience what was happening on my own, without looking over at her to see how she was doing. It still would have been fun if she had been here, but it would have been a different, less intriguing kind of fun.

After the solo lessons, we were told that the leaders should raise their hands and the followers should pick their partners. I was happy that all I had to do was raise my hand, but I was also worried I would end up empty-handed. I mentally prepared myself for that situation, but then we saw each other again. I’m not sure if my brain just made it up, but it looked like she saw me from a distance and was walking confidently toward me. My heart jumped with excitement to dance with her.

There was no time to get nervous. We introduced ourselves, and I told her it was my first time. She said it was her second time and asked if I was a student. I said no, I’m just here for work. She wasn’t shy, but she had a very cute way of simply smiling with her whole face instead of saying much. I preferred to keep things that way. I was still a bit shocked that we had just met and were already gently holding hands, about to dance together. I thanked her for picking me. Saying that felt like I was risking something. What I didn't realize yet was that we were going to change partners every few minutes.

During the lesson, the teachers also showed us a closer way to dance, where the leader places a hand around the waist of the other person. They mentioned that if we don’t feel comfortable with where the other person’s hand is, we should first try to talk to the other person about it. Usually, the person is simply unaware of where their hand is because they can’t see it. If that doesn't work, they can come and talk to the teachers about it.

After hearing that, I made extra sure my hand stayed clearly on or above the waist and that I was very gentle. I also noticed that, as a man, I don’t have to worry about creepy behavior. It made me consider that it might be much harder for women to come here, since it can actually be harder to reject people than to be rejected. I realized that this little remark was changing my view on dating in real time. Maybe women are like spiders: they’re more scared of you than you are of them.

When the lesson was over, the teachers told us that we could now dance with anyone until midnight. The learned etiquette was to simply approach someone, hold out your hand, and ask if they wanted to dance.

After dancing with various women for a few minutes each, I saw my friend again. He was dancing with another girl, and it looked absolutely amazing. They were spinning and moving so fast that they must know each other pretty well, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t get a chance to ask him.

While I was on my way to take a break on the chair where I had hidden my wallet beneath my Hollywood Undead pullover, I saw her again. She was also heading toward a chair. Instead of asking her to dance, I asked if she wanted to take a break. Not because I wanted to take a break with her, but because I didn’t want to get in the way of her rest. I wanted to dance with her, not talk.

She said no, and so we danced. Fortunately, I had the steps down well enough that we could focus on having fun. I still struggled with staying in rhythm while making her spin, but that was okay since it was easy to recover from. In fact, we danced so well that we were able to keep up a conversation without stopping. I asked her if she was a student because she had asked me, and she laughed, saying no, she had been out of college for a long time. I believe she was around my age, in her late twenties.

When a song ended, it was usually a sign to find a new partner. When that happened, she made me spin, as if to say I had spun her a lot in a playful manner, and I gave her my best improvised spin in return. I even spun again just for fun, all by myself, and it made her smile. I thanked her for the dance and said it was a lot of fun.¹

She went to take a break and I went to my chair and looked at the clock on my phone: It's been over an hour. It was a good time to leave. I went to the restroom and almost forgot my wallet there because the night basically went too well.

Her name was Stephanie. I would go again next week, but I have to leave for Europe.

Now, I would like my next girlfriend not only to climb but also to go dancing with me.

— me, reflecting on my volatile emotions

I really liked this song today: