Outside the box. (6)

I am fifteen and my mother and her friend is forcing me and a friend to take dance classes. Not just any! With girls. My hands are sweaty, I have two left feet and the girls I dance with don′t look too impressed. The worst is that my mom is waiting outside so we cannot sneak away from class.

Fifteen years later I am about to get married. My wife-to-be asks if we can take dance classes. To be able to do the bridal waltz perfectly. Ironically she books us in to the same dance school as I went to when I was younger. Slowly we learn the steps, the posture and the turns. We practise at our warehouse. We practice and practice and practice. So comes the big day. I am not sure what makes me more nervous – the wedding or the dancing. After dinner it is time. We walk into the middle of the dance floor. Head high, shoulders back. The music begins and we start dancing. We slide and turn and make our moves expecting our parents to join us after a minute. No one moves. They let us finish and then later, everyone cheers.

I am so far out of my comfort zone, but still I make it. I feel like there are no limits now. No limits to what I can do.