"Just let me lead!"

Something my friends have been telling me for years finally hit home for me last night on the dance floor of Lenora's. Adequate place for such an epiphany. No better than any other place, I guess. First I'll tell you what everyone says about me, and then comes the moment when these thoughts are realized in a very literal way.

For those who know me and my wonderful success with relationships, you know that I come at them in a very no-nonsense way. I'm a tom-boy and not afraid to admit it. I love playing sports, beating guys in their element, or at least match them in any way possible. Now, I'm not altogether successful in this endeavor, but I do my best and usually end up earning the respect of said counterpart. All that being said, it doesn't exactly make me a hot commodity in the relationship field. I mean, who really wants a girl who is more interested in understanding the logistics of rugby than make Friday night date plans? Or cooking up a fabulous dinner for two? Which, by the way, I am quite good at, even if I do say so myself.
Furthermore, I am infinitely and hopelessly independent. I always took this as a compliment whenever people would say that about me. I mean, I enjoy being independent and being able to do things on my own without assistance of others. It's what has made me able to stand on my own two feet and take care of myself. Because obviously, no one else is around to volunteer for the job. I believe this independence of mine has inevitably come between me and men. Since I can handle life without the assistance of guys, guys see no need to pursue me. They're intimidated by self-sufficient women. I understand that. However, that knowledge doesn't make me want to become a damsel in distress in the slightest. I like being in control of my life (as much as humanly possible), and having to answer to a man every time I want to do something does has its drawbacks.

So the consequence: I am left without a single man's interest.
My response: I'll survive. I'm not putting my life on hold if you can't keep up with me.
Harsh, I know. Believe me, it comes as a result of years and years of being "just Lissa" (as my friends say).

Okay, this exceptionally long back-story culminates in one sentence said to me on the dance floor last night. It was alumni weekend, so there were a lot of ruggers around to celebrate, drink, play some rugby, and basically have a great time. We had finally moved our dwindling gathering to Lenora's for some dancing and drinking. Let me state this as clearly as possible: I am a horrible dancer. Always have been. Always will be. To make up for that, I usually do my own little free-style dancing and shaking on the floor. I may be awkward, but at least I have fun, right? Well one of the guys with us came up to me and we started dancing. Not regular dancing where we each do our own thing, but take-my-hand-and-let's-put-a-few-dance-steps-together thing. He kept trying to spin me, or spin himself, but I do not know how to take signals from guys (literally, as you can see). Finally, in exhasperation he said, "Just let me lead!" And my lame response, "I can't dance." Meaning, "I don't know how to follow your lead."
Anyone see the symbolism? Irony?? This is why I have no love life: I can't let a guy lead. And I'm too stupid to see when he's trying. Thank you my dear dance partner (who will remain nameless) for pointing this out to me so tactfully.

Maybe I wasn't meant to be a dancing partner. Maybe I was supposed to be a solo dancer this whole time, and I didn't realize it. Until last night.