I have a confession to make: I don’t dance. I don’t know how — that whole “just move your body, feel the music” thing always infuriated me because I just don’t get it — and I don’t like it. I feel so self-conscious. Dance parties literally terrify me. The worst part is that the dance parties are often such a central part of the queer party scene — in a more organized sense (Chicago has Chances Dances weekly, Queerer Park and FKA monthly, and Berlin all the time, just to name a few) and in the “and then it devolves into a dance party” sense. And that’s not who I am. Continue reading
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