WARNING: This post is a long one. Dance slumps are a serious problem and require a serious number of words to address properly.
When the initial infatuation with dancing has worn off, alien feelings can take up residence. Instead of exhilaration and constant excitement, you can experience frustration or boredom, even hurt or anger.
You might have a sudden plummet, or a long downward spiral. Or a fog may slowly creep over you until you once day notice you’ve “lost the spark.” Know this:
You are not alone.
As bad as it feels to have a sudden change in your feelings toward dancing, you need to know that this is normal. Every single dancer on Earth deals with it. Most of us have lots of ups and downs.
Here’s what we’ll talk about in this post:
- How to identify when you’re in a dance slump by knowing what it feels like.
- How to pinpoint the source (or sources) of your unwelcome emotions.
- How to decide which concrete actions you will take to get yourself out of a dance slump.
What a Dance Slump Feels Like
Here’s a collection of feelings you might experience:
- Frustration, disappointment
- Disgust for dancing
- Discouragement
- Sadness, depression
- Hurt, sense of loss
- Loneliness, isolation
- Anxiety
- Anger
- Longing
- Blah, indifference, general lack of interest
- Listlessness, mindless searching for answers
- Exhaustion after dancing, or even just thinking about dancing
And a few more with explanations:
- Procrastination or resistance (to practice, social dancing, organizing your event, etc.)
- Self loathing (“I’m such a bad dancer. I learn so slowly. I’m always making mistakes.”)
- Questioning (“What’s wrong with me? Should I quit? Is lindy hop even the thing I want to do right now?”)
- Blame, of yourself or others (“I wish these dancers were better so I could have better dances.”)
- Community hate (“My scene sucks! These dancers aren’t very good/challenging/inspiring. No one loves lindy hop like I do.”)
Remember, these are symptoms. The way you are feeling is not the problem. I’ll say it again:
Your emotions are not the problem.
Is is 100% okay to feel any number of these things! Really and truly, I promise you. Don’t make emotions your enemy.
By trying to “fix” how you are feeling, you cover up the true source of your feelings. Instead, dare to take a deeper look at what’s really got you down.
The 5 Common Causes of Lindy Hop Unhappiness
Take some time to think about which of these applies to you. More than likely, you’ll identify with more than one of these core issues. You may even being able to think up a category I haven’t mentioned. (If so, leave me a note in the comments!)
Note: any of the above mentioned feelings can associated with any of these causes. Especially when you begin combining causes, emotions can get intense and unpredictable.
Growth Slump
Plateau, lack of challenge, lack of achievable goals, lack of progress, inability to win competitions. Any time you realize you’re not as good as you thought.
Burnout
Doing too many things, too much responsibility, too much social or scene pressure, too much practice. Consequently, you haven’t had enough rest time.
Social Woes
Trouble making friends. Perhaps you’re not getting asked to dance, or you’re afraid to ask others. Maybe you don’t like the friends you’ve made or have trouble being yourself around them. You could feel at odds with your scene.
Identity Crisis
Who am I as a dancer? Why do I dance? Where do I fit in? What’s my calling? Am I a performer, competitor, deejay, organizer? What if I don’t want any of that?
Fear of Missing Out
All the events you’re not going to, the people you aren’t dancing with, the opportunities you don’t have. Usually, you’re also thinking about the great opportunities and dancing everyone else seems to be having.
How to Deal With Your Unwelcome Emotions
The source of your unhappiness determines what actions you take. However, no matter the cause, there are 3 things you MUST do:
First, understand reality.
Everyone experiences the doldrums. People feel it differently and frequently hide it, but you’re not special. You too get to deal with lindy hop melancholy.
Second, adjust expectations.
The ups and downs will keep coming, year after year. The downs are even more prominent if you expect to keep progressing. You will not accomplish everything at once. There will be no magic bullet, only growth and discovery won through patience and determination. “Victory is sweetest when you’ve known defeat.”
Third, allow for change.
Your relationship with lindy hop will change over time, and it’s not always predictable. Six years ago I thought I wanted to be like my idols on YouTube. It turns out I wanted to be a blogger. You will continue to discover who you are as a dancer.
Sidebar: Unreasonable Expectations and the Havoc They Wreak
Here’s the straight dope on unreasonable expectations: they kill you slowly. Root ‘em out and evict them from your brain. I promise you’ll be happier.
A few common ones:
- “I should be learning faster.” Better: “I’m not learning as fast as I want.” Then google how to learn faster.
- “That person should ask me to dance.” Better: “Whoever wants to dance with me should ask me to dance.”
- “Other people should love lindy hop as much as I do.” Better: “I should connect with people who share my love of lindy hop.”
- “I should have won that competition.” Better: “Next time I’ll do my best, and that will be enough.”
- “Other people should like the music and/or style of dancing I like… because my tastes are better.” Better: “People are at different places in their artistic tastes.”
Unreasonable expectations encourage your sense of entitlement, an extremely poor way to get what you want.
11 More Concrete Actions
1. Analyze the cause. Maybe it’s several causes! Ask yourself which is the worst, and start there. Discover your unreasonable expectations and give them the boot.
2. Take a break! It’s okay! Really! Many of my slumps have been addressed by taking a vacation from lindy hop.
3. Focus on what’s good, the opportunities you do have, the things you do right. When you get distracted by the things that are bad, tell those thoughts, “Shut the hell up, you’re not running this show!” Thoughts can be really stupid sometimes. Culturing positive thoughts takes practice.
4. Deepen your relationships with the people who support you. Don’t focus on people who don’t support you. Remember to look at people as individuals, not means to an end. If you focus too hard on what function people serve in your life, you may forget how to enjoy simply being with them.
5. Talk about it. This is critical, especially if you feel isolated or lonely. Support can also come from unexpected places. If you don’t have supportive friends, try talking to an acquaintance you’d like to know better. A great friendships could begin with, “Man, my dancing has been really blah lately. Have you ever experienced that?”
6. Make opportunities and take chances. This is really hard, because it can kick up your inner voice that says, “I’m not good enough.” My entire first year of blogging, I was a nervous wreck before publishing each post. “Am I good enough to post this? Will people think I’m stupid?” Yes, some of them will. In which case refer to #4 above.
7. Learn better practice skills. All practice is not created equal. How you practice can mean the difference between growth and stagnation.
8. Do something else. Don’t be ashamed of trying new hobbies or different dances. Lindy hop is a non-monogamous lover, and it values the liberal arts. Get education in many subjects. Each will enrich your relationship with lindy hop.
9. Try again. Whether it’s right now, tomorrow, or next year. “Fall down seven times, get up eight times,” the proverb goes. There is always another opportunity to try.
10. Find a niche. Nothing is more motivating than choosing a calling. What are you here for? What do you do best? How can you give unique value to the community? Ask, “Who am I as a dancer?” These questions won’t be answered in a day.
11. Find a mentor, a more experienced friend you can be honest with and who will be honest with you. Though we don’t have official mentors or coaches in lindy hop, filling this role can be invaluable. We need more guidance than we realize.
And in Conclusion, One Final Secret
My secret, above and beyond all the actions I’ve mentioned above, is simple. I made a decision that lindy hop is a top priority, and I’m sticking to it.
The benefits of commitment are huge.
It gives me an identity, an unmistakable direction to travel. Commitment frees up my brain to move forward. Feeling down becomes another way of experiencing lindy hop, rather than a sign that all is lost. Instead of letting a rough patch determine what I do, my feelings inform my dancing, writing, and practice.
Being committed also puts everything in perspective. I’m going to be dancing for many decades. One bad day, one bad month (even a bad year!) is only a drop in the bucket.
But commitment didn’t come easily.
A friend who’s going through a dance slump recently said: “I read all your blog posts and emails and I wonder, how do you find time to do all that?”
In the past I’ve wondered the same about other dancers who seem to be successful. This question is about more than time management. It’s almost asking, “How do you dare to find the time? How do you dare to set everything else aside? How do you dare to put yourself out there?”
I wasn’t always this committed. At the beginning I believed I was taking lindy hop seriously. But outwardly I acted nonchalant most of the time, rarely daring to act in full accordance with how I felt.
Two years ago, I finally couldn’t stand it anymore. I was angry and disappointed in myself for not doing my absolute best. So I posed myself some questions: “What do I ultimately want to be as a lindy hopper? If I were serious about this, what would I do?”
I’ll admit I’ve stumbled a lot while trying to bring my actions in line with my feelings. But I’ll save those details for another post.
If your actions speak differently from how you feel in your heart, this could be the ultimate source of your misery. As you thrash your way through your lindy hop issues, remember that becoming a lindy hopper is not a singular goal. It’s a constant process of discovering who you are.
Leave a comment and share your story:
1. What has your dance slump felt like?
2. What caused it?
3. What did you do (or are planning to do) to get out of it?
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{ 33 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh my gawd, girl. I am right in the middle of one! Seems to be caused by the fact that everyone else is waaay better than me! (At least, that’s how it feels. Why are these other people so good? It’s depressing.)
Solution: Taking a break from lindy hop, maybe until the exchange. I am taking African dance classes and ballet instead. I can’t recommend African enough: All the good things about lindy hop (syncopation! individuality! jazz movement! joy!), and none of the bad things (extreme social awkwardness, people judging me because I suck), as well as some different things (live drumming! no counting). Hit me up if you want to come too.
I really support taking a break and branching out to get some perspective. But I gotta say, you never know who envies YOU. :-)
You + African dance = a great combination. Every time I’ve taken a class, it’s kicked my ass (in a good way). I might just have to go with you.
Where do you go African dancing? I loved the African dance class I took in college, and it’d be fun to get back into it (especially if it’s not too far away).
1. What has your dance slump felt like?
A. It feels okay. And I mean that. It feels neither good nor bad. It feels just fine.
2. What caused it?
A. I like to think it’s “social woes,” but it’s more likely “burnout” and “identity crisis.”
3. What did you do (or are planning to do) to get out of it?
A. Nothing. I am focused on “doing something else [entirely],” and while I will go out for nostalgia’s sake from time to time, we’ll see if I ever can commit fully again. It certainly will be a different commitment than I’ve ever done before. I like your ideas to “find a niche” and “find a mentor” very much.
I understand your focus and audience here, but I would like to hear more about what you think of and consider “doing something else.” And how to grow the Lindy scene without focusing on the people that have been or are already there, but you’ve covered that a bit more from what I’ve read of your excellent blog.
Cheers,
Zac
For me, lindy hop is a grand metaphor for life. So in that way, everything you do in life can inform your lindy hop. Not everything is very directly related. Sometimes I’ll have a stroke of insight only after getting waist-deep into another activity. In my life, everything leads back to lindy hop somehow.
“Finding a niche” is probably the best thing I’ve done for my lindy hop. Glad you like the post!
This is where I am, too. I’m blah about dancing, and I’m okay with that. I’m super excited about other things going on in my life, and I’m going to focus on those. Maybe I’ll come around to being excited about dance again in a while, and maybe I won’t. I still come out occasionally to see and support friends, and I’m busy with other things.
I’m actually just coming out of a slump, it felt more like procrastination than anything, as I have a number of other consuming hobbies and past times. I felt like I was slowly losing the will to move at all.
What caused mine? Herrang. It was one of the most soul-draining, horrible experiences of my life. It forced me to focus on who these people were outside dance, and I realized I hated them all, and couldn’t stand to be around them.
I just didn’t dance, took a break of about 6 months, but have found myself coming out 1-2 nights a week (as opposed to my previous 4-6). I still find myself annoyed and bitter at some of the people, but overall I’m able to separate them from my experiences and just enjoy the dancing.
If you don’t like most of the people, can you still enjoy dancing if you ignore them and make friends only with people you like? Or do you feel the need to really like all the people that share your hobby? I could see either being valid responses, and I’m not sure where I stand.
I’m curious. Please share more.
This is exactly what I needed to read! Thank you so much for posting!
I’ve been in a slump since last October because I moved away from my home and where I was comfortable dancing. I still don’t feel comfortable here in a new city and making new friends has always been a struggle for me. It makes me so sad that I just can’t be out going! I’m still trying to find my way out of this dancing slump and I always seem to be angry and disappointed in myself.
I’m so familiar with anger and disappointment. Glad to know I’m not alone. I hope I wrote something useful to you, so you can get back on the road to enjoying lindy hop!
man been dancing about 8 years now . . .
To be honest I think I still like dancing just as much as I used to when I first started. Although I did used to travel a lot more and it did seem more exciting. Well still is exciting today, so I don’t know. All I really did for fun before dancing was play video games and read comic books, but that was not so bad because I was really stoked on x-men comic books. Wolverine being my favorite, but of course hes everyones favorite. And instead of dance trips I just went to lots of big concerts and theme parks, so that was not so bad. I think it helped me become more social and less akward then what I used to be. Still pretty akward anyway. The idea of getting out of a slump and being better does sound pretty sweet. Kind of wish I new more moves. If anyone sees me on the dance floor and wants to teach me a new move I’m all hears! :)
Awesome blog! I am a ballroom dancer but really identify with your dance articles/blogs. Your blog helped me sort out my current issues. I am having an identity crisis and fear of missing out. I like your idea of getting a mentor and figuring out one’s niche. Thanks – happy dancing!
Hey there,
I’m the author of one of the pieces that was linked at the beginning of the article, (Necessary and Sufficient). But I wouldn’t say that piece describes me in a “dance slump,” if you define that as not wanting to go out dancing or not being psyched on it. I wrote that from a place of being really thrilled about lindy and excited to get better and wanting to go dancing all the time, but stumbling on some of my own social anxieties which sometimes prevented me from enjoying myself to the fullest, but I was still avidly chasing the high.
That being said, I have definitely had dance slumps. And rock climbing slumps, for my other obsessive lifestyle hobby. For me personally, “commitment” doesn’t make me feel better. Taking a break makes me feel better. When I don’t feel like going climbing as much, I go dancing. When I don’t feel psyched about lindy, I go to blues. I bounce back and forth between a few communities. For me, feeling obligation from a self-imposed commitment kind of takes the fun out of it. But then, as much as I want to improve my dancing because dancing more skillfully removes barriers to my expression and connection and joy, I know that dance is never going to be an kind of job/career of mine, so I give myself permission to do it only so much as it gives me go. If I start feeling too frustrated, I take a break and do other things. Then when I miss it, I come back.
Thanks for the clarification!
I’ve been in a slump for two years now. I find myself drifting farther and farther away from dance, which in turn makes me really sad. I feel like I’ve dedicated all this time to a hobby that I love (I’ve been dancing for 7 years), but that never really loved me back. Like Sarah, making friends and being outgoing is not easy for me and this community does not help any. I feel like I climbed up this dance ladder by bloody fingernails. I’ve grown a lot but I’m also ok not being the best dancer out there, but come on! I’m not such a terrible dancer that I deserve the feeling of only being tolerated. On top of that, many of the good friend I have made over the years also seem to moving on. The scene’s changed, I’ve changed, and I feel like it’s time to dedicate time to other endeavors that are also important to me. But, I also don’t want to stop calling myself a dancer. I’m very conflicted about where to go from here.
“Conflicted.” That’s another emotion I should add to the list. That’s kinda where I was 2 years ago when I moved to Seattle. Injured and couldn’t dance, no friends, still mad at myself for not being as “good” as I wanted to be, identity crisis (e.g. What am I doing in lindy hop?).
But, I did have Paul (now husband). So I think that having just one supportive person makes all the difference. I hope you have (or find) that person.
I can’t wait until I’m good enough to have a slump.
I had my first slump after 7 months. I thought I wasn’t good enough to do lindy hop, and I nearly quit. It was actually a problem of not having a supportive circle of friends, plus not learning lindy hop in a way that satisfied me.
Then I went to Lindy Focus, and I realized there’s a whole world outside my little scene!
Anyhow, glad you haven’t hit a rough spot in your lindy hop yet!
me too!!!!!!!!!!!
:)
Welly welly welly….
Awesome subject! If i have to think of a dance slump i actually should think of the last one. It was a big one and i comprehends several of the items you pointed out.
It occurd as soon as i got back from my first ever Herrang experience. Being from Argentina to go over there is a really big deal. And you have to be commited to the dance otherwise it’s an insane amount of money spent in some sort of holiday.
Well the thing was that i experienced an extreme state of drepression with my scene, all the people in it, the music, everything. In part i guess is because going to herrang is like going to the Star Trek Nexus and after that i felt i couldn’t go back to just plane ok ( My scene is rather small in therms of social dancing every week). But i was very aware that that would be the case and after going to herrang i had to realize that this was actually going to be my life, there was no going back for me, i commited full on.
My way of coping was to pull back from the scene for a bit, and to focus on the aspects i liked from the dance and the people that made me good. It is a very small percentage but it’s ok, you cannot be friends with everybody and you are kidding yourself if you think different. So i danced and danced as always…:)
I am not too sure what lindy hop is but I am glad I read your inteligent email ! Talk about a case of ” It’s not just me then” what you have said can be applied not only dance but just about any other activity, Good job !
I am about a year into dance in general and have just hit my first slump. The scene in my town is small, but friendly (I have had a few follows refer to me as “the guy who dances with everyone”) so the social aspect is not a problem. My problem is that I am at the dreaded plateau. I am currently not getting any better and social dance nights aren’t as fun and sometimes I am just not feeling it.
So where to go? I took a Balboa class, and then started taking another Balboa class. That’s been very fun. It is a fun dance and I am liking learning something new, and it is something that is adding enjoyment to the social dance floor.
Next due to life changes I am fixin’ to move to a new town that has a decently large and friendly dance scene. (I have visited and true to form I dance with everybody). This town also has a lot more classes and I have met (danced with) some of the teachers. I am hoping this change in scenery
Am I pointed in the right direction here?
I’ve been dancing lindy for 6 years now and have had my share of dance slumps. During the first few years, they were a lot like the ones you described. I was hard on myself for not being a better dancer, upset that people weren’t as passionate in the same way as me, etc. Then I started traveling, which was a lot of fun, but made me bored with the local scene. What really broke me was when I started help organizing. A lot of organizers I met were passionate about lindy hop, but really poor leaders who were sensitive to criticism and I think put their egos before reason. There was also always drama. That being said, I understand that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to dance without organizers. I appreciate what they do, but there are some who are better at it than others. People just have to understand that there’s a difference between passion for dance and the ability to organize an event.
Then a couple years ago, I moved to go back to school. Not being an organizer lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. On the other hand, I had less time for dancing. Going back to school, though, I’ve learned to define myself more outside of lindy hop. Now that I could only go dancing once a week, I started to care less how good the dancers I danced with were. I just wanted to dance. I felt so fortunate that I had something outside of the stress of school. I could just be in the moment of the music. I didn’t think about the past or worry about the future but could just be in the present. I think by not making lindy hop my whole existence, I found its right place in my life as simply an activity I enjoy participating in and that’s it.
Hey Rebecca, thought I’d reply to your recent email about what to do with #@&$% dances. I thought it fit under this entry. It was a well stated blog and an honest admission that regardless of how much or how well one might dance, bad dances still occur. Sometimes they can continue almost the entire night, so discouraging a dancer that they might wonder if the magic is gone. I’ve compared notes with some of my dancing friends on this subject. I have found that if I kick off a night of dancing with 3-4 very good dances, the rest of the night is sweet. The opposite is often true as well.
This doesn’t seem to be limited to just dancing. It also happens with some of my other passions like running and golf. I try to tell myself to “enjoy the process”, sometimes there are birdies side by side with triple bogies. I think it is helpful to ask yourself WHY do I dance? The answer is different for everyone. I hope that in the future I still have the enthusiasm that I see with our few senior dancers in our scene that don’t take this whole thing too seriously.
One more thing Rebecca since I know you are in the Seattle area. A few dance friends recently attended the Seattle Lindy Hop Exchange and told me that they found the scene a bit “exclusive”. Finding it difficult to get a dance. They were a bit frustrated by that reception. Take it for what it’s worth. Just thought I’d bring it to your attention.
Best,
Craig
Hey thanks for your comment on my newsletter! That’s some good advice.
That’s not the first time I’ve heard that feedback about Seattle. We’re not exclusive per se, and I have a theory about why out-of-town dancers experience it that way.
Seattle’s a big scene with a lot of good dancers. I can’t even dance with all my friends/acquaintances at a regular weekly dance, let alone at an event like SLX where we all get together AND a bunch of our out-of-town friends show up. I spend each night of an event trying to dance and talk with as many people as I can. Like many other Seattle dancers, I’m an introvert, so this is never an astronomical number of people. Even so, I end up dancing with at least a couple people I don’t know each night.
This is a pretty common experience amongst the Seattleites I’ve asked. We’re not excluding people we don’t know so much as trying to include the great number of people we DO know.
There’s also the supply-demand thing going on. If a person or group of dancers is in high demand, but they have low supply (perhaps they don’t dance as much as they used to), then there’s going to be tension. I remember literally lining up to dance with Skye Humphries years ago at a weekend workshop. He danced song after song with girl after girl for over an hour. He didn’t have to do that, and I haven’t personally witnessed him do that at any other event. But I’m sure the girls would line up just as fast if he did.
Love this article! I’ve been struggling with periods of burnout/slump for a decade now. I experienced about a year of burnout (too much social pressure) about six months ago, and moving cities is how I came out of it. The new scene is so fresh, so enthusiastic, and there are so many new leads to dance with and get to know. I was feeling really good about my dancing, had decided to start to really practice and even try competing, and then we had a workshop weekend. Perfect, I thought. I’ll learn something. But the whole weekend, I just felt withdrawn and self conscious. And then I didn’t make the masters class. UGH. So depressing. I haven’t been back dancing since the weekend and can’t shake this feeling of “I suck”. I know I just have to get up and try again and keep practicing. But feeling this way, makes social dancing really hard.
Also, I have total dance envy. I look at the professionals and think “I’ll never get there.” Maybe that’s why exchanges or workshops bring me down? I feel like there’s this invisible force holding me back. I do know that this negative attitude is definitely not helping and is probably responsible for my plateau, but it’s so hard to get past!
I’ve found myself disliking workshops for a similar reason. Personally, I like private lessons. It’s nice to make mistakes in privacy, instead of in public. Of course you have to pick a teacher you feel comfortable with, who really gets you. But once you find a good teacher, you can take several privates in a year. Then when you go back and practice (alone and with a partner) on a weekly basis, you’ll have set up a good feedback system.
Hope that idea helps. You don’t have to fit into the same mold everyone else does!
I really like the picture that accompanies this post.
Heh, thanks! I made it. :-)
Ok, so I have maybe a little bit different situation here. But it’s still started to be as some kind of lindy hop crisis for me. I’m feeling very very much inspired to dance than I haven’t felt for a while. I started to practicing myself a bit, tommorow I’ll go to begginner-intermediate classes, to ‘learn’ the moves I already know to death (this time to try to see them from a different direction). And I feel like I could dance lindyhop all day long.
You’d say, that there’s no problem, yeah? But the thing is, everytime I go social dancing, I always get disappointed by partners and dances I have, because it’s always the same. I even said that for them, to improvise more, to free their fantasy. I just feel I can’t be suprised or excited to dance with them, because I know everything they’ll do. I’m not saying I danced with all men in my town or something, but the scene I always tend to be part of is getting really boring for me.
And I don’t know, is it just me, my expectations are too high or my attitude is too bitchy. But it really started to get on me.
I too wish I were good enough to have a slump! My second class and I´m biting back the tears.
Feels like: frustration.
Cause: I´m old? I am beat-deaf, apparently? Really, I cannot even clap with a song. Poor corporal memory? etc.
Plan: play world swing broadcast 24 hrs a day. Search for a zumba type swing exercise video that repeats and repeats for 45 minutes the same move again and again. Try the over 50 year old dance class, even though I´m 45. Get a floor length mirror for the living room to practice. Stop looking at my feet. Persevere at least till Christmas. Maybe some wine before class.
If you are gone from the scene for such a long time, is it even a slump anymore? I think my slump initially began within myself and not being socially outgoing to the point of introducing myself to people who weren’t dancing.. just for the sake of introducing myself. This led me to feeling like I was constantly on the outside looking in. I know people in the scene and I think some of them know me even if its just at the value of.. I’ve seen him around… The next lies at my own thoughts on my lack of being a good improvisor once I’m out on the floor. I joke half heartedly that yeah I’d love to dance so long as you don’t mind being swung out over and over again. Lastly, I got involved with other things both with life itself (work, home, family) and with personal hobbies (baking, travelling, etc). Do I miss the scene? Can’t say as I was never much of a part of it to say I felt like a part of the community. What I observed was both things that were my own fault and things the community could do to open up to those of us that are shy. I don’t mind being the gateway dancer. Someone who has enough skills and comfort to dance with new dancers and to ease them into social dancing if that is what that person needs. Okay find myself rambling (as oft to do) and will stop here. Psychology is interesting in general no?
I’ve only just, in the last couple of months, emerged from a 3+ year Lindy slump, which I hit maybe a year into my dancing. It was like face-planting into a wall. I hold myself to very high standards and suddenly I found that I was not improving, not leading with what I felt was even moderate competence, completely lacking creativity, and, as a result, just not having fun with it. I tried piling on masses of classes and social dancing int he hope that I could just burn through the problems with enough time on the dance floor but this just left me more frustrated and more poor. I was bored with my dancing and I have to dance every dance with me.
So, I stepped away from Lindy, for the most part, and put my energy into Balboa, which seemed to come a little more naturally to me. I largely ignored Lindy for the next 3 years and focused almost exclusively on Bal. I took classes when available and did my best to get to workshops and line up private lessons with teachers whom I really respected. The upshot is that my Bal study dug heavily into technique and connection in a way that I hadn’t experienced in my Lindy and, after a while, the things I learned there started to bleed over into my Lindy.
I was still only doing Lindy very occasionally but it seemed to be improving anyway, just due to my improved connection and body awarenesses from doing so much focused work on those factors. Additionally, in learning mor about what makes Lindy and Bal different, I was able to give more and better thought to the way I move and connect in each of them. Now, in just the last couple of months my Lindy has started to really blossom and I’m rapidly falling back in love with it.
I think that social dancing has definitely helped to get me out of my shell. I wouldn’t say that it’s made me an extrovert so much as a highly-gregarious introvert.
Regarding Misty’s comment – I think I’ve told her this in person (possibly several times) but when I was just starting to learn East Coast Swing, Misty was one of a couple of really welcoming follows who would regularly ask me to dance even though it was plainly obvious that I was brand new and entirely clueless and incompetent on the floor. I still appreciate that — I think that being regularly asked for dances by pretty girls definitely contributed to my sticking with it – shocking, I know :)
As a result, I try and dance with at least a couple of new people (or at least, new to me) every social dance and at weekend events I try and dance with as many different people as possible and always give some time and dances to brand new dancers.