Angol
Dancing is never done alone, it is always accompanied by someone or something. The ballerina is lost in a trance with her music as she expresses herself and allows the audience to share in her joy, loss or longing. A touchdown or goal is celebrated with a choice of moves, some synchronised to resemble a Beyoncé repertoire and others the rendition of the odd uncle's interpretation of Footloose whisky marinaded in complimentary whisky. In most instances we dance from a young age. I danced with my daughters as I sang them to sleep. I danced with the ladies in an attempt to woo them with flailing arms and sweat drenched hair. I slow danced and tried to casually let gravity allow my seeking hands to discover the bottom of beautiful ladies. I have danced in the rain and embarrassed my girls by dancing in shopping centres. So why Dancing with Divorce? Well, dancing is not always done to celebrate life, it also serves to share, cherish and remember periods or people we love or used to love. It's about sharing, trying to forget and often reflecting on what ifs and if only. My divorce was the same, it was a journey filled with sorrow, sadness and heartbreak, yet it also celebrated friendship, family, compassion, kindness and new beginnings. Part of the healing process was learning to embrace each of the above, it was a journey of reflection, acceptance and humbly accepting assistance and swallowing my pride. To go from being someone who is used to giving and then having to reverse the role and be the receiver was a bitter pill to swallow and it was harder than the actual divorce. Knowing and having to accept that you simply do not have the ability or the means to cope or provide for yourself and your daughters is beyond explanation. Sometimes in life you need to embrace that which threatens to destroy you and in doing so be able to allow yourself to move forward...
