My fellow bridesmaids, the groomsmen, and the wedding guests had all been bopping around for hours straight to JT’s “Can’t Stop the Feeling”, V.I.C.’s “Wobble” and the like when the DJ finally toned it down with a slow song. A handsome, funny groomsman asked if I would like to dance and I, of course, said yes because he is handsome and funny, and I like to dance. Soon after we started and it became clear to me that he actually knows how to dance—like literal waltzing maneuvers. Despite how difficult it was to walk much less dance in my 4-inch wedges and floor-length dress, this amused me. I (unknowingly) began trying to anticipate the next steps. “Oh, opps. Was that your toe?” I asked, more than once. To my dismay, I was not an impromptu Waltz master. Eventually I stopped asking if it was his toe and he said kindly with a confident smile, “Let me lead.” This surprised me. Had I been trying to take over!? I said something super-humble like, “Fine, but actually lead me. And whatever you do, don’t drop me.” I accepted that I am not a suave dancer and did my best to let him guide me. I wanted to dance; I just didn’t know the steps. Rather than continuing to awkwardly fumble along attempting to help us waltz, I let his comment remind me that he is the one who asked me to dance. And I had accepted.