Wednesday, July 6, 2016

I Met My Husband Learning to Shag at the YMCA

“Today I’m participating in a group blogging! WOW! Women On Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about finding love in unimaginable places.   Why this topic? We’re celebrating the release of Michael French’s twenty-fourth novel. Once Upon a Lie (Terra Nova Books) is an exploration of the secrets families keep, and the ways those secrets can tear a family apart.

Visit The Muffin ( to read what Michael has to say on finding love in unexpected places and view the list of all my blogging buddies. Visit Michael’s website ( to find out more about the author.”  You can find a review of the novel here (and a giveaway):


Growing up in South Carolina, one would expect me to know how to Shag. No, not shag – I’m an American, not a Brit. I mean, I had two daughters, so I knew how to shag – but I didn’t know how to shag. Okay, that’s way too much information and not what I was trying to say.

Let me start again – I grew up without learning how to do our state dance, the Carolina Shag – a partner dance done primarily to Beach Music. I loved dancing but as a single mom, I had long outgrown my high school dance moves. It was time to learn more adult moves – I meant to say sophisticated dance moves. Jeez. Getting this story out is harder than I planned.

When the time came, after my divorce, to get back into the dating game I decided a good place to start was to learn our state dance. Our local YMCA offered lessons and I signed up. However, with two little ones, a busy work schedule, and a very tight budget, I was unable to attend those first round of classes.

Months later, I tried again and with both young daughters in tow, I showed up at the YMCA  ready to dance. Settling the girls in a corner, the oldest child with her homework and the youngest her blankie and pacy, I joined the other late bloomers for my first lesson in the art of the Carolina Shag and then the unimaginable happened. On the very first night, I met my husband – the love of my life.

I still remember the first time I saw him walk through the door. Tall, dark and handsome wearing  black slacks and a red sweater, his dark brown eyes had me at ‘hello’.  Over the course of eight weeks, I learned to shag, twirl, spin, and follow his lead. That was nearly thirty  years ago.

I went to the  YMCA to learn to dance, but I found love. Unimaginable.

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