Footloose

          Almost any place has its claim to fame. I live where the original movie "Footloose" was filmed. It's a bit more city than country now, but the roller mills still exist and I salute and sanctify them as a holy place. Miraculous dancing graced those mills in 1984. Ren McCormack (played by Kevin Bacon) finds himself in multiple moral dilemmas.  Aside from his rebellious literature reading and wild games of vehicular "chicken", his character loved to dance. Problem number one: dancing in this conservative town is unbecoming and unallowed.

        This is where the title "Footloose" comes about. Kevin Bacon picks up a cigarette and a bottle of booze and...you know what happens next. Imagine what it would feel like to live your entire life wrapped  like an Egyptian mummy, to finally become unraveled. What do you do next?.................. You know exactly what... you dance.

        You dance like you're freeing every bit of caution, indignation, sadness, and frustration that's been locked inside and fuming. It's the powerful anger dance that turns the key and releases all opposition and aggression. It's an emotional expression that proclaims "I no longer fear."  Hopefully everyone has seen the "Footloose" scene I'm talking about, and marveled at its intensity. Also, I challenge you to watch it without laughing...or crying...or both.

       Metaphorically speaking, we all want to dance. By definition of the verb, I mean breaking through a wall that's holding you back. Everyone has walls, some thinner than others, but ideally we want to bust through them. And when we do...

       Ren McCormack and I  know the feeling.  Elation,...freedom.

       I will never tell my kids they're shy. Why? Because it's a euphemism. It's a nice way of saying "you're awkward".  As a woman who used to be a painfully shy girl, I'll tell you right now, it sucks. I bet money other shy people would agree. It's a feeling of wanting to break free and interact, but you can't, you're scared. A thick barrier is wrapped around you and taking you hostage. Everyone seems alive in the world, except you. That barrier is a label that sounds like this: "This is Emily, she's really shy." It's a mindless, trite label. You couldn't have replaced "shy" with thoughtful or observant? Think of what I would be now if my introduction was "this is Emily, she's incredibly awesome!"

         People laugh when I disclose this past life; my life as a social prisoner. It's the opposite of what I am now. Our weaknesses can become our strengths, which then lead to our next weakness. And now, I'm that uninhibited old person who talks openly to strangers. Balance is good, and so is a comfort zone. I'm overeager to invade yours.

         The new me overspills. I vomit out comments that are sometimes a bit shocking. You know, the ones people think but don't say. Reason being: It's my way to distance myself from that overcrowded airless elevator otherwise known as shyness. I'm done with those suffocating years; I refuse to return to that awkwardness. The irony now, is I've created a new kind of awkwardness, but now it's me in control- not you. How do you like them apples?
  
Liberation.

       When I say what I feel,  I'm free. Every time I write, I gain a new feather for flying. When we stop labeling each other, we're limitless. We'll fly to the freakin moon and back, or never never land.

I've always wanted to see a mermaid.  I hate that there's no such thing... a world without labels.

      Moral of this story: Find a wall to break through.  Be careful though, don't go all Incredible Hulk on me, some walls are healthy. There are certain things inside of us that should always remain restrained, no matter what Sigmund Freud says.

     You just can't lose all control, or you end up with the hippies, living in a nudist colony, doing all sorts of drugged out kinky shenanigans.