Dancing to Uptown Funk

I added Uptown Funk to my playlist and played it this evening.  My feet began to move as I danced around my apartment, all my inhibitions replaced by pure joy.  The thought crossed my mind this week that a day doesn't go by that I don't sing and dance in my apartment, or as I walk the empty halls at work, or as I scooter through the park and soar down the hill under the railroad bridge.  I don't even need music to find my body moving to a tune only I can hear in my head.

He didn't like how I danced.  He claimed I only had one move.  He thought I was clumsy.  And the ways he told me this were subtle, with a tone that sounded kind, just a casual comment that barely was heard.  But it was enough to get me to stop dancing.  Even if he hadn't rushed me out of the room every time the first beats of Uptown Funk played, I wouldn't have felt free to dance to it when we were together.

He didn't dance himself.  He said he wasn't any good at it.  I don't know if that is why he didn't want me dancing.

So tonight I danced to it freely.  I even played it a second time.  And it now holds a place on my frequent playlist.

I can't believe I just didn't know.  I couldn't see the small ways he slowly encouraged me to make myself smaller.  He did the same thing to get me start shaving my legs.  He never would outright tell me what he wanted or what he expected.  It would be little comments, always with a tone that felt like kindness, until I decided on my own to do what he wanted.

When he first met me, it wasn't uncommon to see me in wearing that didn't quite match, at least according to fashion standards.  I wore what I wanted, combined the colors and fabrics that felt good to me, and didn't even think about what others might think.  Overtime, more and more of me matched - shoes, watchband colors, hair accessories until all the mismatching was erased.  In more recent years, he even joked about it.  I hadn't considered that it was his worldview and subtle comments that caused the change he was joking about.  Image meant everything to his family.

Yesterday, I put on light blue and red puffin socks with a busy green patterned jumpsuit.  I will admit I paused for quite a moment knowing they didn't match.  And then I reached for my Mary Jane shoes so everyone would see the socks!

I didn't even remember some of these changes and how they came about until I started dancing in my kitchen to Uptown Funk.  I'm coming to see I lost more of myself than I ever realized in this marriage.  

This year has felt so drastic and I didn't understand why.  While I was in the midst of it all, I couldn't see the ways I was being erased and made smaller.  And then I was suddenly free of it all.  I don't think I knew what to make of it at first.  To be able to do what I wanted, when I wanted, where I wanted, with the sole source of my inhibitions completely gone.  And sure plenty was quite ingrained but his absence was louder than those ingrained inhibitions.  

And so I danced in that first rain storm which occurred before I had even moved out.  He had gone to Wisconsin for two weeks right after telling me he would be contacting a lawyer about filing a divorce.  I went for a walk one evening when rain clouds threatened.  And halfway through the park, the skies opened up.  The rain pelted me so hard it stung my face.  But I danced, I raised my face to the sky, and I felt more alive than ever as the rain washed over me.  

After that, each time that I listened more to the loudness of his absence, the ingrained inhibitions grew smaller and smaller.  And maybe someday, hopefully soon, I won't sense his disapproval at all anymore.