When I was out drinking and dancing during my university days, I would always feel put out when men would try to dance with me. I knew it was just a means to an end for them. But for me dancing was the whole reason I was out. It felt wonderful to bust a move on my own. It was less fun trying to bust a move with a drunk idiot trying to feel me up while asking if I was actually eighteen. Perhaps it was because my body got so much medical attention that dancing alone and being free to move around at my own will was so important to me.

A few weeks ago at a concert a friend took a recording of me dancing to one of my favourite songs. The footage shows my little body doing my signature move: jumping up and down to the music and swaying haphazardly. I dance like the cartoon character Tina Belcher from Bob’s Burgers. The few seconds of footage was enough to remind me how happy dancing to music I love, makes me.