A friend asked me recently what crazy adventures I have in store and it has gotten me thinking about my comfort zones and what adventure means. Some adventures are easily defined. They are bold and daring and might necessitate safety equipment. But some adventures are not as easily defined. They require courage of a different sort and maybe safety equipment for the emotions.
A few months back I was in New York City visiting a fella. One night outside his apartment, there was an Italian festival going on, so we walked up and down the streets lined with fried meats, plush toys and sugar-high children. Lights twinkled overhead and on a stage on the street corner, an Italian band played.
“Come dance with me,” he said.
And right there in the middle of the street, we danced like middle schoolers and the world exploded from all of our adorableness.
Then we fell in love but were torn apart by life and distance and when I went to visit him before my wedding I was all, “Why didn’t you ever write!” and he was all, “I wrote you every day for a year” and then it started to rain so we decided not to be mad anymore and have a lot of sex instead.
Wait…that last bit might actually be the plot of The Notebook.
I did not fall in love or get to have really great rain soaked sex with Ryan Gosling (which is a damn shame) and the last hand written letter I got from a boy was in the 12th grade. But, I did have one of those pivotally magical, chick flick fantasy, dancing in the street moments.
I hated it.
Ok, maybe not hate, so much as I strongly disliked that moment because even though this boy had seen me naked only hours before and I really liked him, I was so uncomfortable with this incredibly intimate moment that all I could think about was how much I wanted to run away and hide. Also not throw up all over him.
I am very uncomfortable dancing with people, which, I know, is incredibly strange considering I will dance any time and anywhere (and usually do). Except that kind of dancing is independent and is usually more flailing than actual dancing. Dancing with someone else is extremely personal and incredibly intimate. It means losing a bit of control and really being in a moment with someone, face to face. That kind of intimacy scares the shit out of me.
I have a hard time letting go. I go on so many adventures to prove how much control I have over my life and over my fears, but sometimes adventure is in letting go of control. It’s about letting people in and enjoying adorable moments without vomiting all over them or spending the entire time planning an escape route.
I’m not exactly sure how I will go about this, but I’m sure I’ll figure out a way.
If only there was a groupon for this…