The Speak Up: [Greatest Hits] Dancing on my own, together 👯

In this newsletter:

• The beautiful reciprocity between Robyn and her audience

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[A version of this story was first shared in this newsletter in February 2021]

Friends,

Before Generation Z publicly declared that Millennials need to cool it with their skinny jeans, I had an irrational fear that as I edged closer and closer to the age of 40, the less "with it" I would be as far as pop culture, fashion, and the internet.

Having my finger on the pulse of pop culture, fashion, and the internet have always been a huge part of who I am, but I knew there would come a time (pretty much now) where I wouldn't be able to keep up.

I worried that as I got older I would only listen to music made while I was in my 20's, I would say things like "What is a TikTok?", and my search for the right cut of blue jeans that both flattered my body and declared that I was simultaneously fashionable and forever trendless would come up short.

Friends, all three of those worries have come true.

Last week my boyfriend sent me an email with the subject: Watch the whole thing.

I clicked the unmarked YouTube link and was brought to a video of pop music sensation Robyn singing her big hit "Dancing on My Own" at a concert in Oakland from 2019.

Oh no! TJ is joining me in my fear-to-reality unveiling. This was the proof that I did not ask for and now we're both listening to music exclusively from 2010.

On top of that concern, I have heard the song many times, I know I love it, why would I click on this video?

I clicked anyways.

And so should you.

Watch the whole thing.

For those who do not like to be told what to do, here's a recap:

In the first two and a half minutes of this video you see Robyn mid-Dancing-On-My-Own. The audience is singing along with her, she stops for a moment, and the audience continues to sing without her. She opens her arms outstretched and throws energy back at the crowd, like it's a call and response. But the crowd just completely takes over the singing of the song. Robyn soaks it all in, amazed.

Very soon into this moment the audience realizes they have been swept away by the moment and now Robyn is their audience of one.

In a quick role reversal, back to their original parts, the audience stops singing and starts cheering for Robyn. Clapping, screaming, and supporting her with high-decibel levels of enthusiasm. She takes it in with hands on her heart, and finally arms wide open.

After two full minutes of cheering from the crowd, Robyn picks the song back up and the audience sings right along with her.

This isn't Robyn overindulging in the fandom beneath her. It's a shared experience that they -- both audience and performer -- will never forget.

Now listen, Gen Z, I'm not sure if you are reading this, but although "Dancing on My Own" was released in 2010, this song stands the test of time.

If you don't believe me, listen to another elder millennial: Sam Sanders.

After watching Robyn's performance, TJ sent me a link to this short NPR piece written and produced by Sam Sanders all about the song "Dancing on My Own."

It's worth taking another 6-minute interlude to listen to it. (Hot tip: if you want to read instead of listen, skip the article and look for the full transcript of the audio story. It's embedded into the audio player on the page.)

In the piece, Sam shares this:

"This strange thing has happened with 'Dancing On My Own' In the last few years. Every time I see people experiencing this song, a song with the words "on my own" in the title, they are not alone."

This line hit me hard. It's so true!

You see this in the Oakland concert video and Sam shares many other examples of this song's ability to conjure a shared experience.

I hear the quote above, which I consider the thesis statement of Sam's story, and it clicks for me:

Sharing a story from your life, out loud, with an audience is the same experience as "Dancing on My Own".

Stay with me for a minute...

When working on a personal narrative there is a universal concern of "What if the audience doesn't like me / understand me / stops listening / thinks I'm self-absorbed / abandons me?" and so on.

These are valid worries because opening yourself up to other human beings (whether one or thousands) is a courageous act with unknown outcomes.

And when you are brainstorming, crafting, and ultimately telling a story from your life to other people you are dancing on your own.

It's just you up there, being you, and sharing you.

But what if you could do this: Tell a story (dance on your own) and TRUST that you and your story are going to be received in the way that the audience in Oakland received Robyn?

What if your very personal, very specific-to-you experience was felt, mirrored, and reflected back to you with collective energy and joy?

It's possible. I've experienced it. My clients have experienced it.

Now it's your turn.

Can you get up in front of people with a story to share and carry that Oakland audience energy inside of you? Trust that even if the room is quiet, there is reciprocity.

If you're not yet on board, here's a final quote for you from Nora Samaran:

"There can be no joy of trust without the risk of vulnerability, letting your true self show and experiencing others catching you, mirroring you, liking you, and letting you go, when you are all there, visible, open."

This quote describes what happened between Robyn and her Oakland audience.

And this is exactly what happens when you get up and share a story from your life with other people. However, don't give storytelling a whirl and expect a literal standing ovation, and two minutes of clapping and cheering.

But do expect that everyone is standing up for you in their hearts, and they are right there along with you, your voice, and your words — no matter what you choose to share with them.

The act of storytelling can make that kind of magic happen.

Dancing on my own to Dancing on My Own,

Hillary