Middle-aged Moves

Is Dancing Making Me A Bad Mom?

By Rochelle Lockridge

To put it mildly, I’d had a rough week. Anybody would have cut me some slack if I left early to go dancing.

• Her dementia progressing, my mother was threatening to run away from home now. How long, I wonder, until she doesn’t know who I am anymore?
• My attempts at finding in-home care for my ailing elderly little dog, while I traveled to visit Mom in California, were not going well.
• I narrowly escaped a panic attack when I received the lump sum severance pay from my recently eliminated job.
• My first paying client for my new consulting business was a bust. (long story)
• My ill-fated attempts at networking resulted in a guy who said he could coach me on building my business. Disappointedly, he turned out to be more interested in recruiting me (without pay of course) to build his own business.

Yep…. It was a bad week. By Friday, I needed a break! Family Taco Night was not going to be enough. I made the choice to leave early to take care of just me for a whole 3 hours to forget about everything; to dance, exercise, replenish my supply of serotonin and other good mental health biochemical goodies that were scarily low. When I'm dancing, in connection with a partner, everything else fades away. I come back refreshed and have renewed capacity to focus on what needs to be done to move forward with the rest of my life.

But when I told the family (Full disclosure- it was at the last minute) that I was going dancing right after dinner, instead of being met with a supportive, “Go for it, Mom. You need to take care of yourself.", I suffered a terse, “You’re leaving early again? Is this going to be a habit now?" Now before we go and judge my daughter’s snarky attitude, let’s think about this for a second. She does have a valid gripe. This partner dancing thing is becoming a habit and Friday nights are prime social dance time. And when there’s a group going out from the dance studio as well? Well… I’m finding it harder and harder to say “No" to the call of the dancefloor.

Siren Song: “Something that is very appealing and makes you want to go somewhere or do something but that may have bad results." (Merriam-Webster)

Uh-oh. Maybe I better step back and take another look at this passion of mine. Yes, I find it very appealing and it makes me want to go places and do things that may not please everyone.

In my defense, I dance because it has tremendously positive impacts in my life that keep me balanced and growing in ways I could never have imagined. It is an unbelievably strong tool to help me manage my mental health. It provides a healthy social outlet. I am more physically fit and aware of my body than I've ever been in my life. It is a profound spiritual growth practice; constantly informing me with regard to other parts of my life. Okay, I don’t see any problems here.

My daughter, on the other hand, is experiencing the impact of my dancing differently. She’s in grad school, under a lot of pressure, and good moms are supposed to always be there for their children. Right? She now has to compete with some “frivolous" activity that she assumed would be a passing fad when I took that first West Coast Swing class almost two years ago. My passion for partner dancing has turned me into a different kind of mom than the one she grew up with. But then so has being a woman over 50, being a divorced, empty nester, being unemployed for the first time ever, and starting my own business. I’m not a bad mom, but I am a different mom; a mom who chooses to dance to relieve her stress; one who is practicing a healthier approach to prioritizing her needs, dare I say it, over those of her family. Plus, I know I’m not alone among the other moms who have discovered the joys of partner dancing in their middle age. Unfortunately, some of our children are finding it challenging to fully embrace this new mom in their lives.

When things get tough, instead of turning to food, vegging in front of the TV, or hiding under the covers like I used to, my first thoughts now are to put on my dancing shoes, crank up the music, and start “shakin’ that booty." When my own mom is being flown to San Francisco for emergency heart surgery; when I had to say goodbye to my dog and constant companion of nearly 13 years, (Sadly, Abby’s back legs finally gave out a few weeks ago and I had to put her down.); when I’m in the midst of yet another frustrating “learning experience" starting a new business; I am thankful that dancing provides the genuine respite needed to keep me going and taking just one more step forward.

I wish that dancing didn’t conflict with the time I spend with my family. I have a strong need to have both in my life. Speaking of which, here’s something you’ll never believe: my daughter recently suggested we might take a weekly class together. You know… some quality rather than quantity mommy/daughter time. We hopped online to check out the local Community Ed classes. Lo and behold there was an African Movement class we thought we’d both enjoy and fit into our packed schedules. While she had learned some African dance as an exchange student in Ghana years ago, this will be a brand new adventure for me, as well as a much needed supportive break away from her studies. What fun! We’ll be “shakin’ our booties" together! Looks like we may have found a way for her healthy, happy, dancing new mom to be at least a good enough mom for now.