The Woman With No Name

“When music sounds, all that I was I am” 

– Walter de la Mare


Once a month, I go ballroom dancing.

I book the babysitter, pack my tattered shoes into my purse, and shift the van into drive. I leave behind all my various names and titles, and head to the one place where I don’t need them. Whether or not I have a name matters little here.

I step onto the wood floor, vast and gleaming under the chandelier lights , and the hidden piece of myself rises once more to the surface, painting me in colors I rarely wear.

My fingers tingle as the first notes sound. The beams are firm yet forgiving under my heels, as I move toward the chivalrous partner extending his hand to me.

It begins.

I float and glide, twirl and snap, carried along by music and hands and vibrant energy. For a few hours, the “me” that once was, is again.

No one knows me here, and I don’t mind. Unknowingly, they all see a “me” of whom even I rarely catch a glimpse.

So I play the woman of mystery for an evening. Let them wonder. Let them speculate. I’m happy to give them a story of their own making, and keep reality at bay a little longer. Soon, I’ll hang up my satin slippers and return to where I am needed, to those who have given me my names and purpose.

But for a moment more, I shall be swept away by the melodies… I can be big and bold, and swift and mysterious.

I will see my reflection in the tall mirrors, and recognize that woman once more.

6 thoughts on “The Woman With No Name”

  1. Aah this made me smile. I get this feeling completely. To get away, to do something that you enjoy, to do something that is special to you. I used to go to the movies. I do jog around the corner as well. I have joined a couple book clubs and it’s nice to meet up and discuss with other adults anything not pertaining to kids.


  2. Beautiful post! When you become a mother, it sometimes feels like you have to sacrifice who you used to be before kids. It’s so important to do things just for your sake, and I’m glad that you haven’t given up your ballroom dancing hobby.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s