The One Thing My Ten Year Old Self Thought I Would Do….


I don’t think I can even remember being ten….no, wait…yes I can…..nope….I got nothin’!

Once you get into your forties does anyone remember being ten?  Gosh I hope the answer is a resounding NO, because I don’t really have any memories that I can ascribe to the 10 year old me.

Thirteen year old me wanted to be a an actress.

Fifteen year old me want to be a lawyer.

Eighteen year old me decided to be a teacher.  I travelled the world in that profession, so I’ve got no complaints…only gratitude.

Ten year old me didn’t really deal in life aspirations but I could do a mean cartwheel!  I mean, what more does a ten year old need to be thinking about?  Cartwheels were very high on the agenda, as was dancing.  I took tap, jazz and ballet….all to varying degrees of success….but to the same degree of 70s and 80s costume embarrassment!  Man oh man, did we do elaborate or what in those two decades!  I remember once I did a group tap routine to Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.  We were dressed in red, white and blue leotards with silver sequins marking out the division between the colours on the leotard.  We had tall white marching band style hats on, also with silver sequins, and to top it all off we had white satin knee-length booties over our tap shoes. Sadly there is photographic evidence! 😦

I most definitely CANNOT do a cartwheel, let alone a mean one, anymore.  However, I can still dance.  Actually I love to dance.  It’s one of my passions and something I get a huge amount of joy from.  When I say dance I mean partner dancing, old time rock ‘n’ roll, swing, that kind of thing.  I know it’s a bit old fashioned now but I grew up with parents who could really cut a rug and they not only taught me how to dance but instilled a love of it in me as well.

My poor husband has been dragged into the dancing world.  I wouldn’t say he was kicking and screaming but he certainly had to learn how to adapt to this passion of mine whilst being the proud owner of two left feet.  Remarkably, he has done very well.  We barely notice his lack of a right foot anymore.  What he lacks in technique he more than makes up for in enthusiasm.  He used to say that the more drinks he had the better dancer he was….not sure what that means now that he has been diagnosed with diabetes as well!?!  We haven’t been out dancing for ages, so we haven’t had to test the theory.

I have a good feeling though that it won’t make any difference.  Partner dancing for me is a lot more about the partnership itself, and a lot less about the technique used.  I think that’s why I loved learning to dance with my Dad.  That was a special thing in our relationship.  I have always have a ball dancing, with both Dad and my hubby, and that’s all that matters to me.  Who cares about how many left feet a person has?!

So ten year old me wasn’t planning to change the world but she did take up a sport that has stayed with me my whole life.  She ignited a passion in my for dancing that I don’t believe will ever fade.  Now where are those dancing shoes again….



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