I totally agree, it's hard to say no, and even harder receive it. As a leader, and a guy, I've always felt the guilt if a lady walks up to me and asks for a dance, and I will rarely bring myself to say no if I don't want to, for fear of hurting their feelings. And in the end I rarely enjoy the dance, and many times it's just painful, mentally and physically. But in a small tango community it's harder to say no to verbal invites...
Similarly as you say, it is also very hard to take a no, and I have dealt with it with a variety of ways, from never ever asking that person again, ever, to ridiculing myself by standing right in front of them, or even going to sit on their table "to talk with someone else". And then I felt like a total clown, making things awkward for them, and for me.
It's a learning process, and it can be a slow progress. But the other day I decided to scrap the page, start over, and try to ask again that lady who kept rejecting me last year, and whom I had vowed to never ever invite again even if she begged me - and she said yes, and we had a great dance! And now in retrospect, I see that I should have taken her "no" lightly, and not make a big thing out of it...
Il est difficile de dire «non» .. il est tout autant difficile de se le faire dire.
Un dur dur dur apprentissage .. et encore plus quand ces refus, à tord ou à raison, nous semblent associées à des causes auxquelles nous n’y pouvons rien.
Mercisss pour tes mots, qui comme toujours me confortent dans mes pensées ou m’offrent d’autres chemins de réflexion,
Merci, France, pour ton commentaire et tous tes commentaires.
Quand j’ai l’impression d’avoir passé une mauvaise soirée, c’est soit parce que j’ai dansé avec trop de gens avec qui je ne voulais pas danser, soit parce que je me suis sentie rejetée/ignorée une fois de trop.
Dernièrement je trouve beaucoup de plaisir aux événements Queer.
I totally agree, it's hard to say no, and even harder receive it. As a leader, and a guy, I've always felt the guilt if a lady walks up to me and asks for a dance, and I will rarely bring myself to say no if I don't want to, for fear of hurting their feelings. And in the end I rarely enjoy the dance, and many times it's just painful, mentally and physically. But in a small tango community it's harder to say no to verbal invites...
Similarly as you say, it is also very hard to take a no, and I have dealt with it with a variety of ways, from never ever asking that person again, ever, to ridiculing myself by standing right in front of them, or even going to sit on their table "to talk with someone else". And then I felt like a total clown, making things awkward for them, and for me.
It's a learning process, and it can be a slow progress. But the other day I decided to scrap the page, start over, and try to ask again that lady who kept rejecting me last year, and whom I had vowed to never ever invite again even if she begged me - and she said yes, and we had a great dance! And now in retrospect, I see that I should have taken her "no" lightly, and not make a big thing out of it...
Oufffff … tes mots me parlent beaucoup.
Il est difficile de dire «non» .. il est tout autant difficile de se le faire dire.
Un dur dur dur apprentissage .. et encore plus quand ces refus, à tord ou à raison, nous semblent associées à des causes auxquelles nous n’y pouvons rien.
Mercisss pour tes mots, qui comme toujours me confortent dans mes pensées ou m’offrent d’autres chemins de réflexion,
Fuerte abrazo belle tanguera😘😘😘
Merci, France, pour ton commentaire et tous tes commentaires.
Quand j’ai l’impression d’avoir passé une mauvaise soirée, c’est soit parce que j’ai dansé avec trop de gens avec qui je ne voulais pas danser, soit parce que je me suis sentie rejetée/ignorée une fois de trop.
Dernièrement je trouve beaucoup de plaisir aux événements Queer.
Un gros abrazo et à bientôt!
Finalement on se ressemble encore plus que je le croyais😉