Gen Z Guide to FI

In my new quest to live in the now, instead of waiting for my life to start, I enrolled in a hip-hop dance class that is a 5-minute from my apartment. If you’ve followed the blog since I started, you’d know that 2023 is my #LivingInTheNow year. It was the advice my therapist gave me since I tend to spiral about my future regularly. My therapist didn’t come up with the hashtag though lol.

As I walked to the dance studio, I felt a knot in my stomach.

My cousin made fun of me when I was younger because I wasn’t a great dancer. Nigerians are very celebratory people. There are always parties. There’s always dancing. So, when my cousin first called me stiff and laughed at my dancing, I became self-conscious about dancing ‘badly.’ It has become something like an insecurity since.

I took these notes before the class started:

“Just the idea of me being in a dance class is something I could never have planned for. But I was desperate to try something new. To get out of my fucking apartment and live in the now. Also, I can be social? Maybe make friends. The possibilities are endless.

It might be fun or it might be a disaster. The stakes are so low while the possible reward can be immense. Anyway, I think my 1st class is free as well so there’s nothing stopping me from trying.”

Then I took notes once I got home:

“So I have 2 left feet and I felt so uncomfortable dancing in front of everyone who knew the choreography. I might never be good at dancing.

But I’ll be back next week. 

I love a challenge. I don’t know the last time I really challenged myself to do something I’m not good at. I’m excited.”

I got home and proceeded to dance for 20 minutes. Next time, I’ll see if I can record the choreography and practice at home. The first class was, in fact, free. It costs $60 a month for weekly classes.

On another bright side, I ran into an old coworker/mentor at the dance class. What a coincidence! She invited me to her Thanksgiving. I didn’t have Thanksgiving plans this year, and I felt a bit awkward to ask anyone, especially since I was working the Friday after. I don’t like people feeling bad for me or anything like that. I don’t think it was a pity invite at all. That’s my hyper-independence talking. 

I was planning on sleeping in and watching TV, so I told her, “fuck it, I’ll be there.” Well, I said it with less profanity. Look at me being social!

XOXO Gen Z Fire Baby