Thursday, June 7, 2012

At a Church Dance


"Dancing can be fun and can provide an opportunity to meet new people."

Dancing has been part of Mormon culture since the beginning. Early prophets encouraged dancing as an exercise and as a form of social engagement. Caution has always been taken to keep church dances in line with gospel principles, i.e. nothing suggestive of immoral acts or music that describes sinning.

And so the church puts on dances for its youth and singles. There used to be more family oriented dances, like the Gold and Green Ball, but the occurrence of those has dwindled, and dances are mainly put on for teenagers and unmarried adults.

My question is: Why?

When formal dancing was taught to children I can see where dancing might be a good social activity. I have watched and read enough Jane Austen to see the benefit of organized dancing in social situations. But today dancing is anything but social. Lights are dimmed, music is too loud, and you're so sweaty that you probably won't put up the best impression. As stated by Kat in "10 Things I Hate About You," Who the hell would go to that antiquated mating-ritual?

I have attended church sponsored dances since I turned the magical age of 14, the age the church has set for admittance into such social soirees. I attended the Rose Prom, the "coming out" event that I thought had been done away with, but doing a google search proved that at least one stake had a Rose Prom last year. My father presented me as a now eligible female teen to all the 14-18 year-olds of my stake. We stood under the lattice arch trimmed with twinkle lights as my name was read, waited for the other 14 year-old females to be presented, and then danced to "A Whole New World." It was the first time I ever saw my dad wear a suit, and I love him for that. I remember the people I danced with, all nice, but I had no idea how to dance, what music they were playing, or what to say to these awkward teenage boys who only knew how to do the "Deacon Shuffle."

Now into my early 30s, dances still remain a major component of singles' life in the church. Every single adult conference I attend includes a dance (don't try to hide it by calling it a mixer). And yet I see the same behavior, though now the guys are not doing the Deacon Shuffle, but are trying to impress us with Steve Urkel dance moves. It is also a social situation in the church that I find on the verge of worldliness. We are taught to avoid all appearance of evil, and yet here are Latter-day Saint singles trying to perform dance moves indicative of breaking the law of chastity. Guys dancing this way are not the kind I want to marry, nor do I want to waste my time at an event where this is what is going on.

For this reason, I have pretty much stopped going to church dances. In my late 20s I went because I felt I had to show Heavenly Father that I was putting forth an effort to meet guys for him to bring the right one into my life. But I just don't think I will find the right one in a dark room with thumping music and gyrating bodies.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Apologies

So, it's been almost 2 months since I said I was starting this blog. I got such good feedback and everyone sounded so excited. Then I flopped. I have been working on the first "How I Didn't Meet My Husband" story for so long that I've actually found a husband.

JK. No the first of the series will be posted within the next 24 hours, with a new edition every 1-2 weeks. This is the goal. Hold me accountable, loyal readers. If I haven't posted in the last 14 days, email me every hour (or so) until I do. And remember, this is all in fun and just to get some great stories out there. See you soon!!

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Premise

A few months ago the bishopric of my singles ward (labeled young single adult, but there are many of us that are over 30) decided that it would be cute to have the visiting third Sunday high counsel speakers tell the stories of how they met their wives. There has been only one of these stories that I didn't want to run out of the chapel during (being the ward organist, it would be pretty obvious if I left from the stand). Most include the usual married before 25, meeting at BYU or some other Utah institution, with an occasional "I had to wait so long (24) to meet my wife."

Now, while these stories my seem cute and romantic, they are quite off putting for those of us for whom the miracle of marriage has not yet occurred. Consider the 35 year old sister in the congregation listening to the 28 year old brother who is married with 3 kids talk about how he had to wait until he was 24 to find his eternal companion. Wow! That's old!

From frustration I began to think of the story I would tell the next time I was asked to speak. "Brothers and sisters, the Bishopric has asked me to introduce myself by telling the story of how I didn't meet my husband." I would then go through all the typical ways young Mormon couples meet, court, and marry, most of which I have tried, but with the tragic ending of never getting married. I have spent countless commuter hours thinking of just the things I would say.

Then I realized that would be totally inappropriate for sacrament meeting. Retribution is not a Christ-like attitude, and the stories would probably hurt and confuse some in the congregation. But still, I wanted to get these stories out there, especially when the bishopric seems to think that we are doing nothing to gain exaltation by way of getting married. (There is a story I want to share about what one of them said to me in the temple, but I will save that for it's own post)

So therefore, I begin this log of the many ways I didn't meet my husband. Please don't think of it as bitter mid-single sister trying to get back at the throngs of mid-single brothers. My main purpose is to show that even when you're trying all avenues of socializing in the single LDS realm, you may still be single, and, get this, righteous! So enjoy the stories, comment, and let me know if you want to guest blog if you have a "How I Didn't Meet My Spouse" story of your own you would like to share.