Among the guests I invited to the new series of my podcast entitled “Pogaduchy przez ocean”, besides my zodiacal twin who shares the same birthday every year with me, there’s a woman we share a foot twin with. It is all her merit, that I owe the return to a special memory from 12 years ago. I described this important experience 6 years ago in the March blog entry “To Women and to myself, on occasion and without”.

Yesterday I unpacked an important package from Poland. Each of those I receive from my loved ones are important. Unpacking the boxes, I find in them the symbols of my identity: Toruń gingerbread, theater wafers, mayonnaise, the taste of which brings back the memory of the road from the Grudziądz railway station to my grandmother’s house (the tickling in our nostrils recognized the evidence of the vinegar factory that produces my favorite addition to sandwiches – in college, it was enough to put some on a dry slice of bread to bring a big smile on my face).

Yesterday’s package contained an attribute of femininity: dancing shoes. They smell new, sparkle and awake the hot spot of my feminine nature. These are not the same shoes I used to dance salsa a long time ago. I have changed and I definitely prefer the slow rhythm. Ania, a dancer by choice, helped me in the purchase of shoes. She will be a guest on my podcast, and although we have only known each other for a few months, we have learned an intimate detail of our anatomy. Turns out we have a very similar foot shape. Ania helped me buy shoes for the so-called Latin, and it is from her that I know that in Latin American dances the foot is supposed to form a unity with the shoe.

Ania also knows the reason why I decided to return to dancing. When we met for the first time and I heard about her adventure with standard dances, which she only started around retirement, my eyes opened wide. I searched my memory for the moment when, as a 38-year-old woman, I was left alone, without a husband. Then in my ears echoed the harsh words that, spoken in a fit of anger, cast a shadow on my femininity. I heard: “you are not feminine enough”. Under this words were hidden my exaggerated self-reliance and not attaching importance to sex appeal.

I decided to take advantage of this lesson and find the layers of femininity in myself. After years of analyzing my nature, I know that I hid them for a reason. I had been abused as a girl, and as a precautionary measure, I kept my attention to men to a bare minimum. In addition, my parents put a lot of emphasis on my independence and decision-making. I didn’t use the “I don’t know” answer, and when I heard it from others, I summed it up: “I can’t afford this luxury.” Father’s leaving with another woman did not turn on the alarm lamp. I repeated my mother’s pattern of action.

After my husband escape, I was wondering if there is a place, space, relationship where I can safely use my sex appeal, give the lead to a man, throw the responsibility off my shoulders and trust my partner. Then dance came to my mind. Because it was closely connected to the music, it attracted me like a magnet. I immediately signed up for a salsa class, though I was also tempted to tango. It was there I took the first, difficult steps to giving the lead and the pleasure of creating harmony in dancing with a partner. My body was slowly changing too. By swaying my hips, relaxing my shoulders, and taking my feet off the ground, I was connecting with the depths of my femininity. I was safe, sensual, beautiful and, despite the presence of my partner, closer to me than ever.

It all came back with the dancing shoes on. I turned on the music, straightened my back, rocked my hips, blinked at my reflection in the mirror, and let the music guide me.

On the island, I also found another way to safely hand over the lead to my partner and the pleasure of creating harmony with my man in public! With the help of his arm, I climb behind his back, spread my legs, wrap my hands around his chest, press my cheek to his neck, feel the warmth and unity of our bodies and … we run on the scooter away.

Translated by Szymon “Zachary” Mański
* the photo of the “butterfly” comes from the time when I was attending a dance class and dancing salsa