In 2020 and Beyond — I Hope You Dance Your Ass Off
By: Lizzie Finn
Tags: Health, Dance, Relationships, 2020, Self

I did not expect to spend most of the last decade sitting on a couch in constant debilitating pain. Nor did I expect I’d be alone at the dawn of a new decade.

And also, most surprisingly, after everything I’ve gone through — I did not expect that in the year 2020, I would feel fricking fantastic.

Mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually all seems right in my world. Trust me, this shocks me too. Between 2013–2019, I was fighting for my life, as chronic Lyme disease kept me in a constant battle for survival.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse — they did.

Two years ago (while still fighting Lyme), perimenopause came in like a hurricane, throwing me into yet another, more profound level of hell. As my hormones spiraled, I became unhinged. My physical symptoms intensified — with heart palpitations, near-constant migraines, hot flashes, excruciating cramps, and unrelenting inflammation and pain.

My cortisol levels reversed, so I was sleepy all day, but then wide awake until 3:30 in the morning. I was averaging five hours of sleep a night. And during each sleepless night, while my heart skipped beats, my anxiety and panic intensified.

I thought I was dying.

All of that (sickness, pain, insomnia, anxiety, hormonal upheaval) resulted in a major depressive episode. Frankly, I was relieved when I realized I was clinically depressed. It meant I finally had an answer to at least one piece of the puzzle. I quickly went back on antidepressants and began to make peace with my tortured body and brain.

Today I Feel Good

In fact, I’m better than good. I’m the healthiest I’ve been, maybe, ever. I also feel ecstatically alive — and as if I’m aging in reverse.

For six years, I was in so much pain I could barely get out of bed in the morning. My bones and muscles were so stiff and achy that I couldn’t keep up with my 87-year-old mother. I spent every day in a fog, my brain unable to focus or function. At times I felt like I had dementia.

After years without any progress on the health front, I assumed things were only going to get worse. I was close to giving up hope. After all, life was a daily joyless slog.

Miracles Abound

When my health miraculously returned early last summer, I was hesitant at first to believe it was true. For years, I had prayed for one good day. They were few and far between. When I suddenly had two good days in a row, followed by three, four, and then five, I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I might be finally getting better.

Soon I was feeling like my old self. I could get out of bed in the morning and lead a productive, active life. I started exercising and trained to walk a half-marathon. I lost 40 pounds through intermittent fasting. I started teaching and taking classes. I was no longer spending most of my day on the couch.

But most importantly, I stopped hating my body.

For years, I cursed the wretched shell I lived in. It brought me nothing but misery. It was a heavy, useless burden. And it made me feel like a heavy, useless burden.

Two Things Happened

When I got better last summer, two things happened rather quickly.

My husband left. I started dancing.

The two are not causally related.

Truth is, I cried and cursed a lot after my husband left. Six months later, I am still in shock and grieving for all that was lost during my ordeal with chronic illness. I tried like hell to hold onto my marriage, but it was near impossible while fighting for my life.

It is despite heartbreak and grief, that I started dancing last summer.

I danced because I realized I was tired of fighting for my life, my marriage, my health, my sanity, and my place in the world.

I continue to dance because I love this healthy body that moves and grooves.

I dance because I feel young, sexy, vibrant, passionate, and joyous.

I dance because I can, and nobody can tell me I can’t.

I dance because I no longer care if I look foolish.

I dance because I understand that dancing is a gift and a miracle.

Lessons Learned

I’d like to think I didn’t suffer throughout the last decade for nothing. My major takeaways are these:

Feed Your Soul Daily: Do not settle for a life that doesn’t inspire or uplift you in some way. If your work is a grind, find hobbies or other opportunities to find spiritual nourishment. Your soul likes to laugh, play, sing, and skip too. Silence Your Ego: For years, my ego made me believe my value came from being productive, taking care of other people, and achieving big goals. When chronic illness stole all that, I had to figure out who I was and what really mattered. Luckily, I stopped engaging with fear and learned to follow my heart. Dance Your Ass Off: No matter what lies ahead in the next decade, I plan to keep dancing. Yes, I’ll be in my 60s by the time the next decade rolls around, and odds are I will have lost more people in my life and experienced even more sickness and pain. Despite all that — I will find a reason to dance. And so should you!

Nowadays when my ego starts blathering and tries to make me feel bad that I’m not following the rules or doing more, I tell it to hush.

“Mama’s trying to hear the music,” I say, “so she can dance her ass off.”

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