Shift

True story: an audience member, a casual observer tells me I've changed his life.
ME? Change someone's life? It doesn't seem very likely.
He tells me that he did not know what beautiful was until he saw me dance.
How's that for a quote? --something straight out of some cheesy romance novel, huh?

Let me back up a bit. I am not beautiful. Never have I had any claim on that word. As a matter of fact an ex-boyfriend many years back explained to me why I could not possibly be beautiful. "Your legs are too short and well, you're just too short. Short girls aren't beautiful. And you'd need a tan."
So there you go, a definition of beauty: tall and tan. Even if you added a few inches and an aerosol can of spray-tan I'm certain that my largish nose, round belly, tiny breasts and freckles on my shoulders also knock me out of the "might be beautiful" competition.

Knowing that I'm not beautiful, I have bellydanced for over 5 years now. I love the exercise, I love the costuming, I love the camaraderie and I don't need to be drop-dead gorgeous to be a descent dancer.

This person, this guy who tells me I've changed his life; I've known him for only a very little while. And I don't know him well. In this tiny town you tend to encounter the same people over and over. Even if you don't personally know them eventually you will start to smile and say, "hello" when you pass. This is the kind of acquaintance I'm talking about. I didn't even know his name.

After a recent performance he followed me to my car and started a conversation. "Wow, I had no idea that you do that!" ("That" meaning bellydance.)
I said, "Yeah, for a while now," and that's how our conversation started.
We chatted for several minutes before he mentioned seeing me around town. I nodded my head and said something about this being a small town and eventually everyone becomes familiar. I introduced myself and he shook my hand and told me his name. His next comment kind-of threw me.
"Can I be honest? I didn't think of you as attractive. Before, I mean."
I must have had a confused look on my face because that is when he explained that he recognized me from around town, but never really looked twice. "No offense, but you're not my type." (That's fine, I'm married, not looking.) "But seeing you today. WOW! That was amazing. You're so graceful and the way you carry yourself, I couldn't look away."
I think my response was a very slow, "Ummm. . .thank you?"
We talked for a while longer and went our separate ways. I was thankful for the compliment, glad that I had danced interestingly enough that he stopped to watch. And a bit glad that the weird conversation was over.

Two days later, I ran into him again. This time at the grocery store.
He catches up to me saying, "Hey, bellydancer! How are ya?"
"Fine," I replied.
"I was thinking about you," he said.
Thinking about me? I'm confused. Why on earth was he thinking about me?
"You changed my life," he continued.
More confusion on my part.
"Really, I swear it. After I saw you dance I went home and started thinking. I never knew what beautiful was until I watched you. Everything has shifted."
I asked, "What do you mean?"
He said, "I didn't know you were beautiful. I didn't know."
My confused look must have hung around because he says something about I must think he's crazy. At this point I'm fairly certain he is crazy, deluded, needs to be committed.
"Listen, I think I was stuck thinking girls have to look like Megan Fox to be hot. Now I know better."
(Let me just add a side note: I don't have a television and I'm a bit older, so I had NO clue who Megan Fox was -- had to look her up online when I got home.)
He put his arm around my shoulder (normally, I would have been a bit creeped out, but I was starting to like this guy). "I hope you never stop dancing. You're kind-of my hero."
"Wow, I'm not a hero. I just dance."
"Well, don't stop," he tells me, "I'll see you around," and he walks away.

"This guy has a flair for drama," I think. But he really got me thinking. My brain ran around everywhere for a few minutes and then settled on a few definite thoughts. Kids (by that I mean much younger than myself, but all the way through college) are exposed to so much Megan Fox and Cosmo magazine in the grocery line they have a wack idea of what beauty really is. Great boobs, whiter-than-white teeth, professional make-up and hair, plus long legs, a tan and an ultra low-cut top equal beautiful. Right?
Well, if these air-brushed magazine babes were real we'd all in be trouble. They're not, but guys and girls think they are. Which is nearly as bad. Guys want these uber-hot magazine chicks. They want their next date to look like that. Magazines need to keep us all confused because what if. . .?
What if men realized that the rest of us, those of us who didn't make the cover of Vanity Fair, are beautiful. What if our round bellies and curvy hips (and short legs) were seen as beautiful? The world would truly be in trouble then. We all know to what lengths a man will go to for a woman he believes is beautiful. Entire governments can topple because of a stunningly lovely lady. If we were all seen as beautiful, what influence we would have!!! The world would be ruled by fabulously glorious women of all shapes and sizes. Men would cater to our every whim. Corporations would fall because we might opt to stay home with our babies. Women are nurturing by nature; love would grow, greed would dissolve. Wars would end. I don't think I'm exaggerating.
Megan Fox HAS to be on the cover of that grocery-aisle magazine because we all HAVE to be convinced she is the ideal. It keeps us tame, it keeps us powerless. If we don't look like her or if the girl we are dating doesn't look like her, we are nothing.

Now that I know better, I am going to float through my tiny little town and pretend to be beautiful. Maybe I'll succeed in convincing no one but myself (and a single stranger who claims I've changed his life), but one change is quite a big deal in my opinion. A larger such shift in thinking is a bit scary to contemplate. But it does make me wonder: maybe this dance, as old as humanity itself, is a step forward in changing the way we look at women. It seems appropriate that something so old could carry us back to where we're supposed to be.