Dancing With Myself

Posted on | May 10, 2013 | 4 Comments

We were sitting at the stoplight when I looked up in my rear view mirror.  My son had been driving me absolutely crazy all morning long… one ridiculous request after another, crying, yelling, kicking… just a very three sort of day.  In the mirror, I could see the car behind me, a Caucasian couple in their early fifties, driving a larger SUV.  The woman was crying slightly and the man beside her was obviously angry, his face animated and contorted with screams.  I wanted to look away but I couldn’t, I just kept wondering what could have happened already, at 7:30 in the morning to make these people so unhappy.

At the next light, the car beside me held a thirty-something African-American woman, sharply dressed in a perfectly clean BMW.  She was on her cell phone, seemingly ordering someone to do or not to do something, judging by the movement of her mouth and the unhappy shake of her head.  Behind me, the Caucasian couple kept arguing; beside me, the African American woman kept talking on her phone.  And then from ahead of me, a car turned left with the arrow.  In it was a young girl, wearing a tiara with a car full of her friends laughing and dancing.  The back window spelled out “SENIORS” and I had to smile, for maybe the first time all morning.

So many times I worry what people will think if they look into their rear view mirror and see this thirty-something Caucasian woman bobbing her head and singing her heart out.  So many times I worry that I’ll be judged by the people around me, judged with their stares and glares and frowns.  But this morning, I looked at the people around me and I decided that, if given the choice, I don’t want to be the perfect professional or the bickering couple.  If given the choice, I want to always be the girl in the tiara, dancing to unseen music, happily oblivious to the people around me.

Without thinking twice, I flipped on my iPhone and started to sing along, started to dance along with my uncoordinated and strange arm dances.  I’m sure the woman beside me was amused, in the way that you’re amused by a senile old man doing the twist to Reggae music.  I’m sure the couple behind me were appalled. And you know what? I didn’t care. Because when people see me in their rear view mirror, they may shake their heads and they may roll their eyes, and yeah… they may judge me.  But they’ll also maybe, just maybe, smile.  

And if I’m only sharing a small slice of my life with these random people on the road, I want it to be the part that makes them smile.

Comments

4 Responses to “Dancing With Myself”

  1. Stephanie
    May 10th, 2013 @ 9:25 am

    Yes! 🙂 Get it, girl.

  2. Law Momma
    May 10th, 2013 @ 9:30 am

    Imma break it down this afternoon, just wait… 😉

  3. Caitlin MidAtlantic
    May 10th, 2013 @ 9:29 am

    When I’m in my car, I am the best singer and dancer in the world. I get the hands all into it, like I’m some sort of diva… Well, I am some sort of diva! And I love it! I never think about what people think of me… when I’m in my car. Car dancing is so empowering!

  4. Law Momma
    May 10th, 2013 @ 9:30 am

    It IS empowering. I never sing that great any where else. 🙂

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
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