I posted a video of me dancing, people laughed, I took it down.

I rarely will film myself doing anything and since my parents were out of the house at a doctor’s appointment, I decided to put dancehall reggae music on the TV and dance in the living room. I love to dance and it has been a long while since I have, probably since February. I set my phone next to the TV and recorded me dancing to the song. I didn’t feel super proud of the dance but I thought it was OK—I was proud of one move that felt super on beat.

I decided to post it on my Snapchat and WhatsApp status—both platforms where people don’t get to save the video and also can only view it for up to 24 hours. Within minutes of posting it to WhatsApp, I received probably 5 messages. I think all of them had laughing emojis in them. And not just one laughing emoji but multiple laughing emojis. After about the third or fourth one, I started to ask people why they were laughing. One said I dance like a mzungu (foreigner/white guy in Swahili), another said I need to take dance lessons, and another said I had a very long way to go.

So I took down the post. I deleted it from WhatsApp and Snapchat and talked with the people a little longer. Even when I posted it, I used the emoji of the little monkey covering its eyes. I think I felt embarrassed to post it, unsure of the dance itself and how confident I felt in myself and my performance. When I received the laughs, it didn’t feel as other times where I thought people were laughing at my creativity, it felt as if people were laughing at me. “This poor mzungu doesn’t know how to dance, awwww.” I felt pity coming my way or condescension in a way. More than anything, I felt vulnerable, raw, and quite frankly, ashamed. I wanted to hide. So I took down the post.

I told some of those people that I won’t post those things anymore. I don’t know if I meant it in the long-term, but in the moment, I was feeling so raw—I didn’t want to hear their feedback. I said how when I dance in a club, I feel mostly confident in my abilities because I know I can dance better than most people in there. However, the internet is like a club with 1 billion plus people and compared to the dancers on the internet, I pale in comparison, in skill and sometimes complexion.

I eventually told some of these people that I removed it because, really, I was feeling too exposed. It wasn’t so much what they said that hurt, I was already feeling vulnerable just by posting it. It reminds me of one of the biggest learnings I’ve had in running Emotional Self-Defense classes: how much we feel attacked depends on how vulnerable we feel before, during, and after the event. If I go into the event already feeling vulnerable, even a kind remark can make me feel rejected, ignored, blamed, accused, etc.

As I said before, I like to learn things and I really love dancing and I think I feel embarrassed at how I dance when I compare it some other people dancing. I want to be “the best” and yet I still have a long way to go.

I also just want to accept that I am who I am and dance how I dance. Maybe soon. Maybe I’ll post again.


This is an excerpt from Project 35, an experiment to write a book live. To watch Jim as he writes in the morning, afternoon, and evening—for 35 days in a row—please find the link to join the Zoom sessions at Project 35.