Love is a drug, or so the saying goes. Love can be so many other things as well, depending on the popularity of the latest romantic comedy or on trending quotes overlaid on sepia-filtered Instagram photos.
To toss in my own two cents, I would propose that love is a home. From the familiar swaddling that comforts the crying newborn as he crosses the threshold for the first time, to that sigh as a student flops down upon his bed after class, home is a sanctuary where humans may feel complete. And just as most find it all but impossible to imagine life without a home, ballroom dancing occupies such a beloved position in my heart that it is hard to believe I was so opposed to learning it in the first place.
Were it not for my mother’s adamant will that I watch one of my friend’s practices, I would have never ventured into this glamourous world. I was slouching in my chair, pouting with my head resting on my hands, occasionally shooting looks of discontent at Mom. I was so consumed with teenage moodiness that I barely noticed the dancers as they strode onto the floor. They positioned themselves throughout the ballroom like porcelain mannequins.
Then the music blared to life, and so did the dancers. The rat-tat-tat of the snare drums and the thunder of the bass snatched my attention. As the lyrics of “temptation in my heart, I’m burning, I fall apart,” reverberated throughout the ballroom, the dancers twirled and shimmied across the floor. Watching my friend and the other couples blaze the ballroom with their extravagant routines, not to mention hips that gyrated more than I had previously thought possible, sparked something in my soul. I simply wanted to be part of the magic. It was like discovering a new friend in an unfamiliar town that has yet to become a home, and thus I began my courtship with this realm of glitter and gel, elegance and unbridled joy.
Fast forward six years. I walk into Copley Formal Lounge for the first lesson with the Georgetown Ballroom Team. It had been a whole summer since I had done anything ballroom-related, and three years since I danced with a partner who knew what she was doing. The moment I slipped into my shoes, whose leather had lost its lustre to holes and scratches, a grin crept up my cheeks much like the feeling of rushing into a lover’s arms. And when the music started, I simply fell back into routine, my smile only growing as the night wore on. Ballroom was more than just dance—it was now a part of life. I should be dancing to the music, but I always felt as though the music danced within me. Feeling the beat in my bones made me radiate joy, cleansing my mind of all the stresses of the day and to simply move. Experiencing that bliss once more with the Georgetown Ballroom Team was like a family reunion, except with a family that I had never met, unified only by our love of dance.
And so I had found a family in the Georgetown Ballroom Dance Team. When I began practicing with the team, I noticed a marked difference between these dancers and the ones I used to train with at the studio back home. There was never any shortage of smiles and laughter. Although most of the dancers in my class were upperclassmen, they welcomed me without hesitation. That would end up being my favorite aspect of the team. Whether at competitions or just late night practices for Revent ón, nothing made me feel more at home than the cheers of my friends. Yet the bonds extend beyond the boundaries of dance. I am not the kind of person who whole-heartedly enjoys parties, but at each social gathering that was hosted by GUBDT, I have been able to relax and have a good time. Perhaps one of my greatest memories was at the Christmas social when our members had arranged themselves in a massage circle. Eventually, the conversation died down, but everyone just appreciated each other’s presence. And so we sat in relative silence, rubbing shoulders and letting the camaraderie wash over us.
Ballroom is like a drug. It can be so many other things as well—a confidence builder, a tool to woo dates, or quite simply, a group of people quirky enough to get along while shaking their hips and gliding across the floor. Ballroom is all of these things for me, and I am proud to have found such a community in the Georgetown Ballroom Dance Team.
