Full circle.Since getting reacquainted with my friend "R", whom I mentioned in my previous post, we made plans to go out to a monthly goth/industrial night downtown. The club we were planning to go to is one that has been there for a number of years and was one place I used to go to a lot, back when I was still involved with that scene.
 "All tarted up" | We both used to "get all tarted up", as we sometimes called it, for going out to nights like this.
It's that type of environment in which I have some of the most fond memories. That was a period of my life where I
was free to dress how I wanted and relieve some of the pressure under which I had been living my entire life up to
that point.
We both used to "get all tarted up", as we sometimes called it, for going out to nights like this.
It's that type of environment in which I have some of the most fond memories.
That was a period of my life where I was free to dress how I wanted and relieve some
of the pressure under which I had been living my entire life up to that point.
In spite of that, I was still wearing the mask back then.
She lives downtown, so I went to her place to get ready.
An hour later, hair done, makeup done, and dressed to kill, we were on our way down the street.
I remarked to her how good she looked that night, totally gothed out and that in comparison,
I was going to look like some lady who wandered in from one of the other, more mainstream
clubs down the road. We had a laugh at that as we walked down the street, shivering slightly
as the cold breeze swirled around our legs and up our skirts.
She quickened her pace briefly until I asked to slow down, being unable to keep up with my
shorter legs and wearing my "sassy shoes". |
A few blocks later, we arrived at the club and showed our ID at the door. Again, I was outing myself but for a night like this, the doorman didn't even blink.
Passing through that entrance was like walking into another world. A strangely familiar world I was seeing with new eyes, for the first time. Vaguely-familiar music pounded out from speakers mounted on the wall.
A sea of black-clad people stood before us, some feigning indifference to our entrance, others letting their gaze linger on us momentarily, simultaneously taking in and judging clothes, hair, makeup, and faces, as goths are wont to do - all in a split second to determine our worthiness to be in that crowd. The looks we got and returned in kind, assured us that our visual credentials held as we made our way past the bar. In the corner, we saw a familiar face. "J", being taller than the average club patron that evening, was easy to spot, like a trench-coated lighthouse in that sea of black. He is also someone I knew from years back. We went up to say hello to "J" and he introduced us to someone whose face triggered a dusty old memory in my brain but I couldn't quite recall.
"Hi, I'm Cassandra," I said as I offered my hand which he took. A puzzled look came across his face.
"I ran the Coven list, but back then I used to be called 'Ferret'." At that, recognition dawned upon him and he smiled.
"Excuse us," I said as "R" turned to go deeper into the club where the dance floor and the back bar could be found. We snaked our way through the crowd and found a pair of stools near the end of the bar. Once we had our drinks, we turned and surveyed the main room. About a half-dozen people were out on the dance floor, moving to a song I had never heard before.
Someone approached from our left and it turned out to be yet another familiar face from the old days. "A" stood before us. He apparently had already heard about me (word travels fast in a community as tight-knit as ours once was) and had come over to visit. We hugged and chatted for a few minutes. He offered me one of his cloves, which I gratefully accepted even though I had not had one in at least six weeks. "A" lit it for me after borrowing a lighter from the bartender. We talked for a little while longer after "R", hearing a song she liked, asked me to guard her purse as she went out to dance. "A" told me about his plans to move to Colorado for a fresh start, having recently had a long-term relationship fall apart - what a familiar story that's becoming.
"R" was still out on the dance floor as "A" and I said our goodbyes. We hugged again and he said, "You look beautiful." I was most likely blushing but no one could have noticed in that darkened room. "Now, look that way," he said, pointing out toward the dance floor. I turned my head and he gently planted a kiss on my cheek. I turned back to face him with a huge smile on my face and he smiled back. Then, he turned and walked back into the crowd.
Now, I had always regarded him as maybe a little bit full of himself all those years ago, but that night, he was so unbelievably charming. Maybe it's my different perspective on the world around me, maybe he's also grown and matured as a person. I can't really say but during that brief encounter, I really felt treated like a lady which, like so many other things recently, just felt so "right".
Shortly thereafter, "R" returned and reclaimed custody of her purse. I got another drink and stood to walk back out to the front room where another familiar face, "L" was there in the little group of folks from the old days. "L" was someone I hadn't seen in at least 10 or 12 years. She said she had seen us come in and called to us but we couldn't hear over the music.
"Wow, you look great!" she exclaimed. "You look so happy!"
"Oh, I am. A thousand times happier than before."
"I can tell! The way you smile and...everything!"
"Let's go outside where it's a little quieter," I said, motioning toward the small fenced-in area just outside the glass doors.
We stepped out there into the slightly less noisy yet much colder outside where some of the other club patrons stood, talking while studiously avoiding eye contact with any of the multitude of panhandlers who stood outside the fence trying to entice "donations" from the people within.
I told "L" the abbreviated version of my story and how I had chanced upon "R"'s coming-out picture and subsequent post, and how surreal that whole situation was. I also mentioned my ongoing name-change woes which, hopefully, should be coming to an end soon. We talked for a while and hugged each other goodbye and went back inside.
"R" was there, about to make another run to the back bar, so I followed. Mid-way past the dance floor, some random "dude-bro" collided with my left breast. He looked like the type who obviously were just there to ogle the "hot goth chicks", which is fairly common in that environment.
At that collision, something happened. I won't say that something in me snapped but it was more like a phonograph needle being lifted up out of a skipping track and over to the next song. The "song" that played was an old familiar one that had seen me through this kind of environment before, years ago. I straightened up and stood taller while my hips finally loosened up and my gait flowed into this smooth confident glide as I continued on my way. I looked around, making eye contact with any who looked my way, almost daring them to say something or to try and violate my personal space. It was back. After all these years. This time though, it had a very special edge to it. This aura was radiating out from a tall, beautiful woman striding confidently through the crowd. I was back in my element and, most importantly,
I had found my fierceness.
With a fresh drink in hand, I found a place to sit by the window and took a picture to share with friends.
As time went on, we got close to last call. I had thought that if I didn't get out there and dance at least one time, I was going to have a regret. I'm done with regrets.
Something unfamiliar but definitely danceable came on the sound system and I stepped out onto the dance floor, for the first time in over a decade. All that time, I had had no reason to dance. Now, I do. Oh, do I have a reason to dance!
What goths term as "dancing" is not something easily quantifiable into a certain set of steps or moves. Often, it's more of a graceful flowing with the music, letting the sound move you in whatever way seems right. There I stood, in the center of the dance floor, moving and swaying sinuously with the beat of the music, arms and hands tracing complex patterns through the air. All self-consciousness was forgotten. All worries put aside. I was there. Just there, in the moment, doing something I had longed to do for all these years but could never muster the courage. I fear I am doing the moment an injustice by trying to describe it with mere words.
I had come full circle, after all those years but, this time around, the person, the
woman out there on that dance floor, was me. Truly me, for the first time ever in my life, complete in every way that mattered for that moment. I've known her all my life but now I can finally share her wisdom, love, and charming wit with the rest of the world.
She's the joy that had been missing from my life, after all these years. She is me. I am her.
