ADVENTURES IN PEOPLE PLEASING, FLASH MOBS, AND A DESERT ODYSSEY
How saying yes to something you dread might turn out better than expected.
The term people pleaser—a.k.a. a person compelled to please others even if it means putting your own needs on hold—seems to crop up a lot in social media posts and conversation. It’s generally considered a pitiful type of behavior and one that should be avoided. I’ll admit I’ve never been great at setting boundaries or saying “no.” I just don’t like letting people down. I’m sure you’re all thinking, yep, textbook people pleaser. Perhaps it true, but I prefer to err on the side of kindness/helpfulness, mainly because there’s so much selfishness and jerkitude (made up word alert) in the world and I don’t want to contribute to it. Most of the time, I’m happy to lend a hand. But recently, I got roped into doing a couple of things that sent me into an anxiety tailspin. The results were surprising.
THE FLASH MOB
The first request came from my dance instructor, Alessia. I love Alessia. She hails from an ancient town in Italy called Foligno, and when she goes to her family home to visit at holiday time, she’ll do a Zoom class for us with her mom, brother, and cousins dancing along in Santa hats. It’s insanely adorable. She has the most infectious energy and her Dance For Your Life classes are a blast. A month ago, Alessia planned to shoot a video of a flash mob dance routine for her social channels and asked if I’d be in it.
Now you might think that the idea of flash mob gave me agita. Believe it or not, that wasn’t the problem. I love to dance and I’m game to dance pretty much anywhere even if I look stupid doing it. Also, dancing is very good for our physical and mental health especially as we age (please read my post on dopamine living for more info on this topic.) No, the issue was that Alessia wanted everyone to wear a very tight-fitted t-shirt with her logo on it. I explained to Alessia that I do NOT wear tight clothes and that I would feel extremely uncomfortable in a form-fitting t-shirt and therefore I couldn’t do it. That’s how bad my anxiety is about tight clothes, people. I actually said no. Not that Alessia ever takes no for an answer.
I won’t do a deep psychological dive into why I eschew tight-fitting clothing. Suffice it to say, it’s not my thing. That’s okay because plenty of folks love to wear tight clothes and the world needs variety. Alessia encouraged me to try on a shirt anyway, and said if I wasn’t comfortable, I didn’t have to be in the video. I took a minute to consider whether I was being ridiculous. What’s the big deal? It’s just a t-shirt, Hilary. And maybe, if I wasn’t going to be FILMED in this tight t-shirt, I wouldn’t have cared. I agonized over what to do. Eventually, I agreed to show up and try on the t-shirt. I know, I know. Classic people-pleaser move.
We met in the Sunset Junction Triangle, just blocks from my house. It’s a hipster enclave, closed to traffic, with cafes and restaurants, and people sitting around enjoying their Dan Dan Noodles. Alessia handed me an XL that was an XL in name only, or maybe an extra large size for a doll, or a small child. I put it on over a black work-out shirt, because lord knows, I wasn’t going to strip in public. It still felt too tight for my tastes so I yanked and pulled on the fabric to stretch it out. To make matters worse, all the other dancers had no issue with their tiny tees, which made me feel like a prima donna.
So here’s what happened. I wore the blasted t-shirt. I treated it like a form of exposure therapy—a method that therapists use to get patients to face their fears. Did I immediately realize, hey, this isn’t so bad? I look great in a tiny tee! No. That absolutely did not happen. I spent a lot of time hiding behind other dancers in the back row. Unfortunately the videographer insisted we all switch positions to mix things up and foiled my plans. I’ve seen the footage and the camera zips by pretty quickly. At least the videographer was merciful that way. All in all, it wasn’t as horrendous as I’d imagined. Dancing and moving to the music was fun. Every time I dance, I remember how much I love it, and marvel at the fact that this middle-aged body can still shake it and not break it. The dancing almost distracted me from the fact that I was wearing a tight t-shirt. Almost. When all was said and done, I patted myself on the back for doing something that I’d dreaded and I got a pretty good workout to boot. So there’s the good news.
AJUMMA EXP
And speaking of flash mobs, a friend sent me the most feel-good and inspiring story about a group of middle-aged women who regularly surprise passerbys by busting out choreographed dance moves in public spaces. They’re called Ajumma EXP, (⬅️click that link to read the story.) “Ajumma” is the Korean term for a woman between 30 and 70. “We just decided to do something funky and fun and joyful here in San Diego to shine a spotlight on middle age women,” said Lee Ann Kim, co-founder of Ajumma EXP. How cool are they? How cool are their tracksuits? Nice and loose, just the way I like my clothes. Hooray for people making the world more fun, funky, and joyful!
AN ODYSSEY TO THE DESERT
Now on to the second recent event that sent my pulse into the stratosphere. My friend, Carl invited me to accompany him to see Dean Wareham—the former front man of the defunct shoegaze band, Galaxie 500. Wareham would be playing songs from the Galaxie 500 canon with a supporting band at a small venue in, wait for it, Yucca Valley. On the one hand, it was a tempting offer to hear these songs performed live in a small venue. The 2.5 + hours drive from LA, however, sounded like hell. I waffled a bit and finally said yes, even though I was juggling two writing deadlines. As the date approached, I thought about the crazy storms we’d been having of late, and the snow in the mountains in that area, and how we might get stuck there. I called Carl in a borderline hysterical state. I said I didn’t know if it was a good idea and I had all this work to do and couldn’t risk getting stranded in the desert. He said we should keep an eye on the weather. I’m clearly not very good at getting out of commitments.
Alas, we schlepped out to the Yucca Valley and the drive took closer to 3.5 hours because there were accidents on the highway and I missed our exit. We arrived at a delightful little venue called The Awe Bar at around 7:30pm. The room was pretty empty, which actually put me at ease since I’m still wary about crowds ever since I contracted Covid at the Diana Ross concert last summer and got extremely sick.
FROM THE BACK ROW TO THE FRONT ROW
Britta Phillips, Dean’s other half in life and in the band, Luna, stood behind the merch table selling their wares. Carl took the opportunity to nerd out with her and ask if he could get his record signed. She dashed off to get Dean to sign it. A total musicophile, Carl loves to go to shows and stand in the front row. I barely ever go to shows anymore and when I do, I usually secure a seat to rest my weary bones. This time, I followed his lead and we chatted with a few other folks staking out their spots in front of the stage. A sweet couple, Harmony and David, had driven from Salt Lake City, Utah to see the show for David’s 30th birthday. We’re Instagram friends now.
Soon the lights dimmed, and there I stood, inches away from Dean Wareham on the stage. It was a very civilized crowd of maybe 150 people in a venue that can hold 400. The band members are older now, like us, but still effortlessly stylish, a reminder that being cool has no expiration date. Dean seemed to be staring right at us, his sparkly blue eyes magnified by his corrective lenses. I think the last time I stood that close to an artist I admired was in my thirties. Suddenly, I felt transported through time to Galaxie 500’s mid-80s heydey, swaying to the songs, the thrum of the music vibrating through my body. I couldn’t believe that I was getting to experience a show this intimate and incredible. In that moment I was very grateful to Carl for talking me into the trip and that I hadn’t wormed out of it because I would’ve really missed out.
EVERYTHING IS COPY
We left the venue a little after 11pm. The parking lot was quite dark and as we slowly rolled toward the main road, I directed Carl down a little dip that I thought I’d recalled driving up on the way in. He didn’t think it was the right way, but I assured him it was correct. Well, I was wrong and we ended up stuck in a wet sand ditch, unable to back up or advance. My worst fear had been realized and it was all my doing. Carl said he’d need to call AAA and I assumed it would be sun rise by the time we got home. But lo and behold, the owner of the club, Clark, a slight man (with a famous superhero’s alias) dressed like Johnny Cash in all black + a cowboy hat, saved us. Clark just happened to have a gigantic four-wheel drive truck and a tow strap and kindly dragged us out of the ditch with the help of a couple security guards. He said one other car had made the same error before, so I wasn’t the only numbskull. The rescue mission took about twenty minutes and we were back on the road to LA. We’re forever indebted to Clark. I sent him some candy as a small token of appreciation, but if you’re ever in Yucca Valley, go check out his club. It’s lovely and so is he.
I know we seriously lucked out that night with Clark, but what if practicing kindness and being helpful all these years actually came back around that night? What if occasional people pleasing results in a great time, an adventure, or a funny story? I have found this to be the case almost 95% of the time. I’m not saying it’s okay to be a doormat or to completely neglect your own needs, but as Nora Ephron famously put it and my friend, Jason reminded me when I recounted this tale, if nothing else, “Everything is copy.”
I love to dance! I dance a lot in my little living room during the long, dark winter months. It seems to help elevate my mood and injects movement into my day. I want to try a dance class so bad. Thank you for sharing your experience with the "dance for your life" classes and the flash mob. I'm feeling inspired to seek out a local class.
Happy to see your writing in my inbox again! Lovely to read about the joy you get from dancing (I think more people should try it?!) and enjoyed reading about how you turned these situations on their head... and into copy! ;)