by Sarah Kovatch
I have two mom-friends who also happen to be dancers. My neighbor Cristen danced competitively all her life before becoming a physical therapist, and Jennifer is a retired principle ballerina from the New York City Ballet who now teaches at a performing arts college. These days, they steal away to a dance class a few nights a week after their kids go to bed.
Dance is my favorite art form to watch. The theater lights dim and I tear up. Performances move me. So much at stake! But I don’t dance. Even at family weddings my husband, Peter can barely pull me onto the dance floor. I get what I call, dance-anxiety.
And so, when Jennifer and Cristen invited me to a Tuesday night beginning tap class just for fun, I begged, “Can’t we please just go out for drinks instead?”