By Brittany Bick

I can’t dance for you anymore.

I know I always have. I laugh and smile and fill the silences. I listen to your problems and share deep parts of myself trying to connect in some way to you. Dancing for you can be like a drug. You compliment me and praise me. You ask for more and more, excited that you get a dance from someone new and exciting. You think you see hidden parts of me. And for the moment, you think, “I want to be a part of that.”

But that feeling never lasts. Eventually, I get tired.

The dance takes so much energy, it has become so intricate and specific. The dance becomes sloppy or maybe I ask you to join the dance. You are more of a wallflower.

The façade starts to crack and you realize, I’m just a normal person. My special pieces are still hidden away (they were never part of the dance) because the dance never showed me at all.

I can’t dance for you anymore. It hides the pieces of me I value most. I value my soft heart and my big naïve eyes. I value the trust that I have in others and the need to be kind over anything else. I value finding joy in the small things and I value the softness that comes with time. I value the differences in everyone and the heat of a good debate. I value my happiness much more than I’ve ever valued the dance.

I can’t dance for you anymore.

This dance was never really mine anyway. It was pieced together from all the people who have come before wanting certain parts of me to shine or fade. I faded until the dance dulled all that was actually me. I was merely a shadow on the stage. I had long forgotten the real me—the me who was hidden away behind the expectations of others.

I can’t dance for you anymore.

It is too tiring and my feet and my soul are hurting. I’ve fallen away from the parts of my life that help me feel most alive. The dance became the most important thing to me.

Just one more dance and they’ll finally care enough to make the effort.

Just one more dance and they will understand how much I care.

Just one more dance and they will smile at me the way I smile at them.

Just one more dance and maybe they will notice how much I need them in my life. No matter how many times I danced, it wasn’t enough.

I can’t dance for you anymore. It kills me slowly inside, to be “on” all the time. I just want someone to see the real me. Many have tried before. Many have sworn they will see the real me, but they didn’t take the time, they needed the dance after all. I want someone to not need me to dance for them at all.

So, while I know it’s disappointing, I can’t dance for you anymore.


brittany-bickBrittany Bick is a mom of three who loves being silly and embarrassing her kids. In her spare time (hah), she likes to read and write and watch crime TV shows. See more of her writing here.



Photo: (source)

Editor: Dana Gornall