My Seattle based dance friend named Mateus flew in Thursday evening and stayed at my flat (goodness I’m so British now) with me until Sunday morning, when he flew back and returned to the states. These past days, I felt a lot of joy and love and gratefulness. Now, I just rode the bus with him to Wimbledon, dropping him off at the station and I’m now cozily posted up in the Starbucks located across the the street, sipping on my earl grey tea + soy milk + honey and writing this little blog post.

Here’s the main squeeze

• Less anxiousness compared to previous instances when guests stayed with me in the past – Historically, I’d have a lot of worry thoughts leading up any guest staying with me: “Gosh, I need to clean up around here; I’m so messy” ; “Is there enough space in the house?”; “Are we going to get along; what will they think if XYZ”; “What if we both need to take a shit at the same time”. Nowadays, thanks to all the dialectical behavioral therapy training I received, along with me current work on eliminating (or reducing) fear of opinion of others (FOPO), I’m finding that I’m spending less time preoccupying myself with worry thoughts and spending less time anticipating what others may (or may not) think of me
• Increased confidence that getting a divorce was the right decision – I’ve said this and I’ll say it again: the divorce has been the most painful and yet most awakening, profound, spiritual experience of my life, giving me a glimpse into not only the true nature of people — I admit that the criticisms of me have been true: I often give people too much the benefit of the doubt. With certain events unfolding over the weekend, I feel it even more in bones that I’m on the “right” path, my own path, practicing what my daughter says to me: “just being me.”
• Experienced feelings of pride after two instances of sober dancing – I used to get crippling anxiety out of fear of embarrassing myself when dancing in front of others. Actually, digging into this deep, it was probably also (unjustified) shame about who I was. Fast forward to present day, I’m finding my ability to dance in social contexts without over-indexing on “what are people thinking of me”. This in itself is a victory and in Kit Laughlin’s words: “no victory too small to celebrate”

Highlights of the trip

Dance on Thursday Night: Class ➡️ Caravan

Every time a (dance community member) friend from Seattle visits me in London, I invite them to join me at dance classes.

So far, I’ve the following individuals have visited me:

• Kennedy – Stayed in my flat with me for about a week
• Will – Went to two dance classes with me on Tuesday and Thursday and grabbed dinner and tea at Vauxhall’s Tea House Theatre
• Pat (and Chandler) – Attended Jevan’s class with me on Thursday and then three of us ate dinner at Vauxhall market place
• Mateus

That’s a total of 5 people in 5 months!

Each and every time I’m visited, my energy and spirits are lifted.

Vauxhall, dance class, being offered a churro and Caravan

And this past Thursday with Mateus: no exception. The two of us were able to survive one of the most physically demanding classes on Thursday night – the instructor Kashmire who was subbing for the instructor, Jevan — and following the evening, him and I (along with a new London dance friend named Aubrey) grabbed some dinner at Vauxhall marketplace.

The Vauxhall marketplace was surprisingly packed. I had walked up and down the market place several times searching for an empty table. In the end, I found a rather long table that was partially occupied with two groups, one group consisting of a young man (probably about 20 years old) eating in the corner by himself. I had noticed he was eating churros and commented that “I love churros! How is it? I’m probably going to go grab one myself.” His face lit up, said it was tasty, and then offered me some of his churro. Initially, I said that was so kind and thank you but I’ll purchase my own. However, in the moment, I had interpreted his offering as a gesture, a bid for connection. So I remained curious and followed up, “I really appreciate your offer and not sure if you’re just being polite. You sure I can have a piece of churro?” He quickly nodded. I thank the DBT skills that I’ve developed over the years to remain mindful, to check in with my emotions, and my (increased) willingness to sit with uncertainty and discomfort. After scarfing down one of his churros, that opened up the channels of communication between the four of us — me, my two friends, and this total stranger — and ultimately had a lovely conversation before he took off to head back towards South London.

Favorite moments at Caravan

Caravan is a monthly event curated by artists. The event itself attracts predominately dancers, musicians, singers — artists. I enjoyed going this particular evening especially since I attended along side Mateus and Aubrey.

In addition, all three of us — at different times — got pulled into the center of the dance floor, each of us dancing and freestyling. I loved witnessing both of them dance and can say that I was in both awe and proud of Aubrey because that was the first time (in about 5 months since I’ve known her) see her break a smile on her face while dancing. Whether or not she was feeling it or not, she conveyed a sense of joy during her performance. I felt it.

As for me, I was both anxious when I got called and drew in a couple deep breathes and “let go”, turning off the left side of my brain. I even was able to express musicality and hit the drums that were kicking in. Even though I dance in a studio, battle, the environment was different. Strangers. New Space. The environment completely changes the vibe and ultimately, it felt unfamiliar. I’m not the first to admit that the environment itself can alter the way one moves. In fact, I stumbled on an article describing catching the ghost and that academic paper talks about how other (very experience house dancer experts) share similar sentiments, that the space and crowd (i.e. “civilians”) play a role in one’s dance.

Clubbing at Fabric on Friday Night

(Re) Discovering I fail to whisper quietly

Apparently, I cannot whisper (quietly) and increasing self-awareness of my loud whispering voice. On Friday evening, Mateus and I were sitting next to one another on a bench located outside the night club (Fabric), each of us eating a sandwich. Then a group of beautiful women walked past by us and I wanted to signal Mateus to look and (in my head) thought that I was being subtle. However, Mateus burst out in laughter letting me know that my “yo yo yo” was the antithesis of being subtle and that I practically shouted those words out and if I was trying to be inconspicuous, I had failed.

There’s a discrepancy between what I sound like versus what people hear and this difference is a good example of self-awareness (or lack thereof).

Stopping by my daughter’s birthday party hosted by her mom

I experienced joy seeing Elliott light up at her birthday party. I experienced some grief. And ultimately, the visit itself served as a strong reminder that getting divorced from my ex was/is the best thing for me.

My ex had invited me to attend my daughter’s birthday that was going to be hosted by her and her family, the party taking place at her mom’s house. I had mentioned a numerous amount of times to my ex that I feel uncomfortable being in the same space as her, especially since (almost a year later since our initial official separation) we’re in the midst of a rather contentious divorce. Moreover, when the two of us are confined in a small space together, old behaviors and patterns and interpersonal interactions flare up, part of the reasons that drove us apart. I can only speak from my perspective that I want little to not interactions between my daughter’s mother however there are rare instances where I’m willing to be co-located in the same space, for my daughter.

I didn’t want to mask while I was attending at the party and at the same time, I had emotionally and prepared myself (to the best of my ability) for stepping into a situation where my ex is present with her new partner along with all my ex’s family members (e.g. brothers, parents, grand parents).

What I didn’t expect from the experience was bursting out into tears when her younger brother, Alex, asked me “How have you found the move to London?” I answered honestly and said, “It’s been so hard leaving friends and family behind. While I do love it here, I’m doing this predominately for Elliott.” Then I just started tearing up. It was a mix of how much I love my daughter so much and a moment of brief grief and sadness for the friends and family I left behind.

I really appreciate Mateus attending my daughter’s birthday party with me. After the party, I was still feeling emotional and his presence and validation that the energy in that space was “off” was validating.

I also recognized during the birthday party that after being with my ex for 6 years, I’ve formed and developed relationships with other people attending the birthday party, including her brothers, their brothers partners. Despite wanting to distance myself as much as possible from my ex, I became aware that I miss the relationships that I had formed with those others. I don’t maintain contact with them for various reasons. Chief among those reasons is that during the early stages of the divorce process, my ex would bring up my Instagram stories during our mediation despite me blocking her on social media. I figured she was getting her information from our mutual friends and family however I recognize while that is possible, the more likely scenario is that she was (or is) periodically checking my public Instagram (and YouTube) page.

Rest and Recovery (sort of) and visiting tourist attractions

I’ve lived in London now for 5 months and somewhat embarassingly admit that I have yet to tour any of the major tourist attractions. Seeing those landmarks are definitely beautiful and at the same time, I’ve never been drawn towards seeing those landmarks. Regardless, I did enjoy briefly visiting them with Mateus, the two of us seeing:

• Buckingham palace
• The London Eye
• Big Ben

I threw in the towel at around 6pm and headed back to the flat before Mateus, allowing him to do more tourist things while I get some down time. When I had gotten home, I walked the dogs and then heated up a pizza and then baked us some vegan cookies (many folks who try out my cookies tell me that it’s some of the best cookies they ever eaten and that they don’t taste vegan: score).