‘Just say yes’: Why being bad at things shouldn’t stop you doing them

READER REPORT: It’s 1989, I’m 18 years old, and Miami wine coolers have replaced all blood in my body. It’s under these conditions that I decide to wow my coworkers with a karaoke rendition of Delta Dawn at the annual staff party.

My curls hit peak vogue in the strobe lights as I belt out not just the actual Delta Dawn words, but my own made-up words between the real words because. Well. I have no idea why I did that.

My coworker and I already had a reputation for random office sing-songs. Occasionally, we hit it good with a soulful ditty from the 70s. Mostly we stuck to the saccharine, that one Tiffany or a few Whitneys. We were sometimes told to shut up, or had pens thrown at us (never money). Everyone tended to ignore us which we took as permission to carry on and entertain, and it’s this that had us believe we were awesome singers.

Our karaoke debut met with weak applause and side eye from the older, sensible tables.

Right then was my moment to accept that I have no musical ability. Singing, dancing, even humming a tune. Just no. It’s people like me who should never be allowed to start off a crowd singing “Happy Birthday”.

Unfortunately, I’ve never let being really, really bad at something stop me from doing it. I’m drawn to a microphone and bright lights like a moth to flame. I, too, should burn for the suffering I’ve caused. Here I find myself several decades um, wiser, and still, I think I can dance.

So when my friend said, “Zumba?” I said “Hell yeah!”, and then my two left feet took themselves off to their first class. Yes, Zumba, which I thought started in 1995 and stopped in 1996, is still going. It’s 60 minutes of following instructions and a set dance routine, and yes, I absolutely knew beforehand that I don’t do either of these things very well.

The sweat I drip is not from exercise, but the stress of counting and keeping up. My wayward limbs think they are the boss of me. “They’re not,” I whisper to my brain, “Make them stop.” “Oh this is fun,” say my feet, stepping backwards. Hello person behind me, nice to meet you, my feet say hi.

I gave myself a five-star review for my attitude in getting to the class. For actual talent I threw myself a one star, mostly in recognition of not injuring myself during the few sessions I went.

For exercise, I decided I’m better suited to a simple daily walk. It aligns nicely with my podcast addiction and tendency to daydream.

If I ever get the chance to lay on my deathbed, I’ll have few regrets about saying yes, even to a myriad of things I probably should have avoided. I’ve learnt that a little bit of embarrassment and awkwardness is worth a lifetime of experiences and enrichment.

Just say yes.