See You at the Next Wedding
When I was in middle school, I loved to dance. I’d be at every party, bouncing up and down in the center of the dance floor, belting out all my favorite 2009 hits. No one could drop it like low like middle-school Amanda! It was a time to be alive. But once high school hit, something changed. I danced at my homecoming during my freshman year, and I never went to another dance again. I felt awkward and self-conscious, so uncomfortable in my skin. I didn’t know how to dance in a “cool” way, and I felt like everyone was judging me. Classic teenage girl, huh?
This feeling persisted until I was a senior in college. Instead of enjoying moving and dancing and jumping around during all those years, I let time pass. Then I graduated, and a decade after my middle school dancing peak, I found my love for it again. Was I a good dancer? Only if you were watching with your eyes closed! 🤪 But it made me so happy that I didn’t care. I started dancing with my dog, while getting ready to go on dates, in the car, brushing my teeth, cleaning my house, blow drying my hair. And above all: I loved, loved, loved to dance at weddings.
My muscle atrophy began to progress around age 20, so weddings have become the way I gauge my stamina. I can’t get an MRI every few months to see where I’m at; my pockets just aren’t deep enough! But I can dance at my friends’ weddings and take note of how long I last before my hips begin to give way and I wear out or feel pain. There are a variety of factors that play into this, including medications I’m on, physical therapy I’m doing, rest I’ve had leading up to the event, adult bevvys in my system 🍸, etc. Nevertheless, I end up with a general idea of where I’m at.
So, here is a list of the last six weddings I attended (in chronological order) and when I had to leave the dance floor:
Wedding 1: April 2022 - Off the dance floor by 12 AM
Wedding 2: Oct 2022 - Off the dance floor by 2 AM (LONG night!)
Wedding 3: April 2023 - Off the dance floor by 11 PM
Wedding 4: Sep 2023 - Off the dance floor by 9:30 PM
Wedding 5: Nov 2023 - Off the dance floor by 8 PM
Wedding 6: April 2024 - Off the dance floor by 7:45 PM
It’s a sad pattern to notice. I love celebrating my friends and their love, but usually around 9 PM on their wedding nights, I notice the lump forming in my throat. I feel my pain and my tiredness, and I see how not tired they are. I’m like a 70-year-old, looking through a window, watching 26-year-olds having the time of their lives. Will I be able to dance at my own wedding? Will I even be able to walk down the aisle? How long will I last on the dance floor by then? I try not to let myself dive too deeply into this line of questioning, because it can make me spiral and scream-cry (which is also TOTALLY valid to do sometimes, just not at your friends’ weddings!)
Instead, I meet myself where I’m at. I acknowledge how sh*tty it is. It was never fair. It didn’t happen for a reason. And it doesn’t make me stronger or braver than the 26-year-olds dancing across from me. It just makes me a lot less lucky.
But at the same time — how beautiful it is to have been invited to so many celebrations in just a couple of years. To have been asked to be the maid of honor twice, and a bridesmaid twice. How blessed I am to have such wholesome relationships and a partner with whom I can dream of my own wedding someday.
I may not be lucky in genetics, but damn, I sure make up for it with my friendships. So even if I’m not dancing my heart out by the end, it’ll still be a full heart nonetheless.
See you at the next wedding,
Amanda
