Trying to dance again

An outreached hand. An attempt to shrug off the invitation to dance, something that I usually find joyful, stirring and happy. Something that I was feeling anything but. But my two friends were heading to an outdoor concert’s dance pit for a second time last night and weren’t accepting my no-shaking head for an answer.


“You won’t feel like dancing until you do it,” Marcia said, grinning.


Her logic, as always, was flawless. Still, I wanted to resist. I wasn’t feeling like it. And, in fact, wasn’t feeling like being among a crowd gathered to listen to music and enjoy themselves. At least not at that moment.


But it was two against one and I knew that I wasn’t getting out the dance card invite. I had to at least go through the motions. And that was enough, I suppose. I still had my funk, which hovers like a marine layer of thick patchy clouds. But I moved. And remembered that I did like dancing. One day, I hope, I remember the joy of it.


But for now, I’ll be satisfied with those little gestures – an outstretched hand inviting me to dance and be joyful – and the kind words of understanding editors once I leveled with them about hovering depression, a relic from workplace sexual harassment.


The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission investigation may take a year, I’m told. Also, in an unusual stance, it’s not open to mediation, the investigator told me. She surmised, but wasn’t sure as she’s an investigator and not in litigation, that my case has caught the attention of the legal department, who wants to litigate the case.


Details will flow, in time. But for the moment, I’m working on my sea legs. I’ll be damned if harassers, colleagues and otherwise, and an unsympathetic employer, will bask in my heady silence for all time. And I’ll be damned if sexual harassment will ultimately control and define me. Still, this issue is too important to let slide. And it’s not just for me. It’s for all women. Therefore, I cannot back down.


I don’t want this blog to become preachy and bashing. But I do want it to be truthful and empowering – and sometimes light and filled with joys, like dancing or watching a clutch of otters dart through mossy river waters.


Until the next dance,




One Response

  1. please knock the italics off, they are difficult to read. oh, and i just found your blog (you non-blogger, you)
    Peace, larry

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