Solo Mother

When the going gets tough, the tough go…

by christina on November 29th, 2007

Tango.

Perhaps you’re new to this single, post-divorce stuff. Maybe you’re a year or two into it and have decided to just slog through the days, getting things done, taking care of the kids, the job, the car, the house… but,of course, not taking care of yourself. I am a fan of actual therapy, or “Paid Friends” as some of us like to call it. But we should never underestimate the value of responsible, retail therapy. I’m not talking about going and maxing all your credit cards on frou frou, chichi stuff that makes you nothing but broke; like sugar, that kind of stuff rarely satisfies, and can do more harm than good.

My tango shoes. Let me show you them.

When my marriage broke up I took a deep, hard, critical look at myself. How on earth could I have been so wrong? And what on earth could I do, short of joining a nunnery, to ensure that I wouldn’t choose the wrong man again? What about me is consistently attracted to the wrong men? And even deeper than that, what have I denied myself all these years that makes me happy? How do I begin to stretch and grow again? Ever since, I have listened very carefully to my heart and head, one cautious step at a time. I’ve learned some wonderful, amazing things about myself, including the fact that I am really a kind, warm-hearted, happy woman. I am creative. I am intelligent, and worthy of good things.

Take my advice. Step out of the box. Color outside the lines. Do something you’ve never done. When the opportunity to take tango lessons came up, I said yes. How could I not? I’d never done it before. I’d never known anyone who took tango lessons. I’m building new memories to fill the place where the old, painful ones are slowly fading away.

One night a week, my heart soars and I laugh out loud because I’m dancing. The instructor startled when this bubble of pure, trilling joy escaped me–I had suddenly realized how far I’ve come, doing something difficult, complicated, beyond my ken. And I felt wonderful. So when I was presented with a choice of dance shoes last night, I chose the red ones. Not the black.

Joyous women should have a pair of brilliant red shoes in their collection. And then dance the night away.

(Those particular shoes are made in Portugal by PortDance, if you need some…)

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POSTED IN: Spoil yourself, sanity