Dancing on My Own Two Feet

Dancing on My Own Two Feet opens with a marriage proposal. It is a crisp, spring day. As waves roll onto a California beach, Jenn Todling is presented with three sparkling diamonds on a platinum band. Her boyfriend, Morey, has her in his arms and waits patiently for her response. She accepts his offer of marriage with words that sound convincing and confident.

“Of course I will.”

It is a beautiful moment and that’s where the fairy tale ends. Todling has barely gotten the words out of her mouth before she realizes she’s making a mistake. As I continued to read, I was filled with questions. Why agree to marry if you know it’s a mistake? Why marry a man you’ve only known a few weeks? Why plan to drop out of college, elope, and keep the wedding plans secret from most of your immediate family members? Why agree to move several states away when your fiancé hasn’t given you a rational justification for the move?

Todling gives several reasons for her impulsiveness—a desire for adventure, her parents’ divorce, having to caretake younger siblings, not wanting to disappoint a dear friend, who was instrumental in bringing Todling and Morey together.

But the one reason that predominates is her religious upbringing. She states that she didn’t want to rush into marriage—she was only 20—but spent her high school years in what she describes as an ultra-conservative Christian youth group. She vowed to save herself for her husband and spent years focusing on honoring God in her relationships.

Todling joins a growing number of women who’ve written memoirs that examine how an ultra conservative upbringing impacted their decision-making as adults and adversely affected their lives. A few that come to mind include The Exvangelicals: Loving, Living, and Leaving the White Evangelical Church by Sarah McCammon, The Woman They Wanted: Shattering the Illusion of the Good Christian Wife by Shannon Harris, and Awake: A Memoir by Jen Hatmaker.

In these memoirs the women decide to leave the church and break free from patriarchal, religious structures. It’s unclear if Todling leaves her faith. She doesn’t say, but what is clear is that her life takes a dark turn not long after saying “I do,” and the type of Christian faith she grew up with plays a major role.

As in any intimate relationship, Todling and Morey don’t really get to know each other until the facades and personality layers maintained to impress begin to fall away. Todling learns some hard lessons as Morey reveals his authentic self.

Exacerbating the fallout from these revelations are health issues Morey develops in the early years of the marriage, how he handles them, and how Todling responds. In one telling incident, Todling wants to celebrate her 30th birthday. She has to tip-toe around Morey figuratively and literally as she secretly discusses arrangements for friends and family to fly into town, decides what outfit she will wear, which dancing shoes she’ll strap on. She rehearses the words she will use to inform Morey of her plans. I felt saddened as I read these pages. A person shouldn’t have to use stealth tactics to plan her birthday celebration.

Throughout the book, I was rooting for Todling to be able to breathe again, to find her way to independence in the face of a difficult marriage. I was hoping she would have an opportunity to dance again, dance with abandon as she had done when she was a teenager. The last half of the book provides the answers.

Dancing on My Own Two Feet is a page-turner. I was riveted as to a suspense novel. It is relatable for anyone who has made a major life decision without weighing its gravity and is a cautionary tale for a young person on the cusp of adulthood.