I once read an article about what we do to children when they come to school by destroying their self-esteem. The article pointed out an example of a child who loved to paint and his mother would tell him how beautiful his art work was and hang it around the house. When he got to school his art teacher never complimented him and often pointed out what was “wrong” with his paintings. Thus…he learned he couldn’t paint in art class.
I was reminded of this story when I attended my first Zumba dance class. Coming from a dancing (ish), cheerleading (ish), background. I felt like I could probably hold my own in an exercise dance class. Ha! Picture in your mind the scene from Seinfeld when Elaine dances at that party. That was me in class. The more I concentrated and tried to look cool doing the moves, the more ridiculous I appeared. Eventually I slid over to the side where I could no longer see myself in the gigantic mirror at the front of the room. My fantasies about being a good dancer and being able to keep a beat were shattered in the midst of “boom, boom” moves and jumping up and down while kicking out my feet. I am unaware of the name of that move, but picture the scarecrow in the wizard of Oz. This is how flexible you must be to do it. I left feeling defeated and soon realized I learned I can’t dance in Zumba class.
I did have a small burst of self-esteem when I saw that the teenager in the front row was also struggling with some of those cool moves. BUT just then I happened to dance/stumble my way back in front of the mirror and my thoughts returned to, “How in the hell did you get so fat? Is that really you?”
I hobbled home, got in the shower and stumbled to my bed where I spent the rest of the night staring at the TV. I was exceptional at that!
I shall stick to my 30 minute routine, treadmill, weights, yoga……in the privacy of my own home. Thank you!