Dance like nobody is watching. Then, dance like they are.
That was the last line of the heartfelt message I woke up to. It’s Christmas morning 2022, and the message came from my Father.
Growing up, we weren’t very close, me and him, but over the past two years I don’t think a day has gone by when I’ve taken our relationship for granted. He gives me space, but somehow consistently shows up at the exact right time to say the perfect thing in that peculiar way that only a father can. Like some kind of paternal witch - he just knows.
Jumping back: about three months ago, I went through some serious life changes. Most jarring of them, a breakup. This is the part of the movie where you’d be seeing a slideshow of cute photos as I voiced-over, “We were at the ‘go look at jewelry’ phase and believe me when I say there was no lack of passion or love. But relationships, especially metropolitan ones, and especially queer ones - well…, they’re complicated. There’s lots of types of love. I played little tricks on my mind for a while, but even I can’t fool myself forever. It wasn’t meant to be, and there’s a lot of healing I have left to do, but I want to tread those waters carefully out of respect for his privacy. For now, all ya need to know is that I’m newly single, 30 years old, and the only relationship I’m committed to for life is the one I have with Manhattan.
This is my Sex and the City Era.
But think more like from Samantha’s POV if she were a Real Estate Broker. That’s more my vibe.
Last night I attended a fabulous little pot-luck with some of the wonderful characters from the nightlife scene I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for nearly a decade at this point, including the man who first hired me on Fire Island. I’d go to war for a good number of these folks. It’s crazy how quickly community can become family in those spaces. We really do look out for one another, not that you’d know it from the online interactions. The venue was the unopened club downstairs, temporarily transformed to a dining hall. I stared up at the Disco Ball above me during dinner thinking “this is just the beginning.”
A couple tequilas later and I found myself bundled up making my way to the Eagle for some Christmas Eve twirling. (I didn’t make the nice list, so I might as well enjoy being naughty.) I’ve found a lot of freedom in flying solo lately - my anxiety is eased knowing I can just leave if I want to, which is exactly what I did. Blew a quick $25 on cover, made a lap, then walked right back out - didn’t even check my coat. My feet took me to my old building. I stood there for a few minutes in the first few hours of Christmas, looking up at what used to be my home, and finally said goodbye.
Maybe I have a habit of glamorizing these moments, but for me, it’s important to allow them their space. To me, they deserve it.
I woke up this morning expecting to feel heavy, but I don’t. I have a stage in front of me, and I’m ready to dance.
Merry Christmas.
XOXO
Rustin Low