This poem is the sister poem to my last post, Minefield.

I want to view socializing
not as standing in a minefield,
but as dancing on a hillside.
Still not risk-free nor pain-free;
inherently unsteady.
Falls (rejections, awkward moments, etc.)
are inevitable.
But unlike missteps in a minefield,
they will never be fatal.
They will cause bruises
that hurt in the moment,
but heal with time.

The hillside dancer can move joyously
not because she faces no risks,
but because she views the risks realistically.