I Almost Left

What happens when you stop trying to stay in just one version of yourself

I almost didn’t stay.

We walked into the country club and I felt it immediately. You know that feeling when a place just doesn’t land in your body?

Yeah… that.

I leaned over to my friend and whispered,

“I kind of wish I could leave.”

But I couldn’t—we had driven together.

And honestly, she’s the reason I’ve been in all these rooms lately.

She’s in her mid-60s, grew up in Oklahoma. Country dancing is in her blood.. And then three years ago, she picked up Latin dance and never stopped.

Now here we are, both driving farther than everyone else to get to these dance spots and saying yes.

And I think that’s part of it.

I’ve been saying yes more lately.

Even when it’s inconvenient.

Even when I’m not sure it’s “my thing.”

Especially now.

Because in this season—separation, divorce on the horizon—I keep coming back to the same question:

Who am I now?

For a long time, that was easy.

I’m a Latin dancer.

Salsa. Bachata. Cha-Cha. That’s where I feel at home.

So walking into a country club to dance 2-step, waltz, country swing?

Not exactly where I saw myself.

But I stayed.

And then she goes, “Want to try ballroom too?”

Of course she did.

And somehow both nights, a bunch of Latin dancers showed up. Which helped. I had people I knew. I could drop into something familiar whenever I wanted.

But I’m really glad I didn’t just do that.

I danced with new people.

And it was… interesting.

2-step felt steady and grounded.

Country swing? Total opposite. Messy, playful, kind of a free-for-all.

Same “category,” completely different vibe.

Then ballroom.

Way more structured. Intentional.

I ended up in a private tango lesson with a former instructor and… yeah. That one got my attention.

Sharp. Controlled. A little intense.

I was into it.

And then—because apparently she wasn’t done pushing me—she pulled me into a West Coast swing class.

That one?

I was lost.

Not “oh I’ll pick this up” lost.

More like…

what is even happening right now lost.

The timing felt off in my body.

The connection felt different.

I kept trying to find something familiar to anchor into—and there was nothing.

Just the music, the lead… and me trying not to overthink every step.

That one humbled me real quick.

But here’s the part I can’t stop thinking about.

All weekend, I kept hearing:

“You’re so easy to lead.”

And I had to laugh a little.

Because in Latin dance, I’ve heard the opposite.

And I think I finally get it.

When I don’t know what I’m doing… I don’t anticipate.

I’m not trying to guess the next move or get ahead of the lead.

I just follow.

And apparently, I’m really good at that.

Which made me pause.

Because… where else in my life am I not doing that?

Where am I trying to control things because I think I already know how they’re supposed to go?

Where am I getting in my own way by anticipating instead of just responding?

Being a beginner again brings that up fast.

It’s humbling.

A few weeks ago, one of our friends brought his roommate to a Latin social. He had never danced before.

I showed him the basic bachata step and danced with him throughout the night to make sure he felt included.

He ended up liking it enough to take classes.

Now we’re in the same class.

When he comes to socials, the funniest thing happens. He’ll hear a song and ask:

“Is that bachata?”

And someone will say,

“No, that’s salsa.”

Or, “That’s merengue.”

Or sometimes, “Yes—go dance!”

This weekend, that was me.

Standing there like,

“Wait… what is this? Foxtrot? Rumba?”

Same confusion. Same curiosity.

To this day, he says he feels most comfortable dancing with me… because I was the one who taught him the basic.

And I just—

kind of melt.

Because that’s how it starts, right?

Not with perfection or knowing everything.

Just one person saying, “I’ve got you. Start here.”

And it hit me—

You can be a beginner and experienced at the same time.

Just depends on the room.

In one place, I’m the one teaching someone the basic step.

In another, I’m the one trying to keep up.

Both are real.

And then today, after bachata class, it came full circle in the best way.

One of my classmates told me he saw me dancing salsa the night before.

He had told a group of people I was an incredible dancer… and then asked if I’d teach him.

I literally laughed.

Because in my head, I still feel a little rusty.

Like I’m just getting back into it.

And here he was seeing something in me I wasn’t even fully claiming.

That stayed with me.

Because maybe this is what’s shifting.

Not that I’m becoming someone completely new.

But that I’m learning to hold more.

More range.

More versions of myself.

The part that knows what she’s doing.

And the part that has no idea.

The one who leads.

And the one who lets herself be led.

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I almost left that night.

Instead, I stayed.

And somewhere between all those dances… something clicked.

I’ve been doing this same thing in other areas of my life.

Using my breath to expand my capacity—to sit with more sensation, more emotion, without trying to fix it or rush through it.

And this weekend?

It felt like I was doing that with my body.

With movement.

Letting myself stay in something unfamiliar long enough for it to start making sense.

Not forcing it or mastering it.

Just… staying.

Expanding what I can hold.

New rhythms.

New patterns.

New ways of moving.

And maybe that’s what this season is really about.

Not picking a new identity.

But loosening the edges of the old one.

Making room.

Because I don’t think I’m trying to figure out who I am anymore.

I think I’m learning how to become someone who can hold more than one version of herself…

and feel at home in all of them. 💃

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What part of you is ready to expand… if you stopped trying to stay in just one version of yourself?