I love to dance. I’m not always great at it, and often look like a full-on doofus when I hit the floor at the club. That doesn’t mean I don’t do it anyway, but these days, it seems like no one else is. I’ll go to the club and watch people barely move around like their feet are glued to the floor, or just watching from a distance. All I can ever think is: what happened to dancing like no one’s watching? The Age of Embarrassment happened.
We live in a time where everyone is subject to constant scrutiny from the watchers behind screens. I love social media, sharing my life and seeing what everyone else is doing. What I don’t love is the constant judgment, even though it comes with the territory. It’s my personal belief that these anonymous spaces are the main creators of The Age of Embarrassment, because everyone can pass judgment on everyone else’s lives without consequence. Everyone is quick to judge, so everyone is quick to hide, regardless of the fact that embarrassment is a universally bad feeling. When people dance like no one’s watching, they risk being vulnerable to a group of people that could film or whisper about them: but the reason that those onlookers are mad is because deep down, they wish they dared to be that free too.
Social media has cranked everyone’s fear up to the max. The dance floor is less of a dance floor and more like a stage. Stepping out on a stage is putting yourself on the line and in front of a crowd. Audiences are meant to watch. Everyone must be watching, right? Wrong. You will hear this time and time again, but just to reiterate for those who haven’t heard it enough: no one is judging you as hard as you’re judging yourself. Our perception of being cool is being unbothered, unmoved and unimpressed. Dancing requires sincerity, which is something that our understanding of coolness despises. Letting go of needing to be cool for those watching is a powerful reclamation of your joy and involvement with the world around you. Dancing is one of the purest, most mindless, non-aesthetic acts of joy that feels so threatening to the watchers of the world. It can’t be curated, controlled or filtered.
When you see old representations or genuine content of the 2010s, aka the peak clubbing era, you see a world without effortless filming. Our version of clubbing and dancing is curated, aesthetic and “camera-ready.” In this peak era, it was messy, unfiltered, sweaty and carefree, which looks a lot more fun to me. Once we developed this idea of “cringe” culture, we destroyed this easygoing environment and created a new climate of self-consciousness.
If everyone is embarrassed, why are they out at all? If you were to frame your night around speaking about and looking at other people, how sad a person would that make you look? The answer is: pretty damn sad. It’s inevitable in a university town to encounter people that you don’t always want to encounter when you’re out at the bars, but letting that stop you from enjoying yourself defeats the entire purpose. You have spent money to stand in a club and drink as you worry about how you’re being perceived. I’m one of these many victims of the fear of perception, and it doesn’t feel good. However, I’ve learned in my observation of these empty dance floors that everyone seems pretty scared, and no one is having that much fun because of it. If anyone is actually watching, let them. If the dance floor feels like a gallery where every part of you is being scrutinized, be the piece of art that no one can take their eyes off of.
I dance so I’m not wasting my money. I dance so I can have a fun night with my friends. I dance because I love music. Most importantly, I dance because I realize that my dancing is an act of defiance against my fear of being perceived. In a space where everyone is embarrassed or judging, I’m breaking free from thinking of those things and I am being the person I want to be, doing the things I want to do. If people talk, they are the ones who shouldn’t have even left the house, not me. Let people be mad that you’re enjoying yourself, even though the odds are that no one’s even thinking about it anyway while they’re so busy being wrapped up in their own issues. Let people think you look weird, because in hindsight, they look weirder whispering from the sidelines. Dance for your own reasons, not for everyone else’s. Stop wasting your money, your time, a perfectly good dance floor, and the chance to have a great night with people that you love. Dance, and the best kind of people will want to dance with you. A fun night out is only as fun as you make it.