Berlin to Ballet West – Year Three in Berlin – My First Dating Experience

 

As I looked in the direction of what might lie ahead. I had a brief reflection of how beginnings and endings in my life have always been so dramatic.

Being in New York City as a student and then leaping into becoming a dancer in Berlin, was never as easy as my idealistic side wanted to pretend. Changes in my life had always been tremendously dramatic and done in ways that were often unexpected and difficult.
But I causally brushed such thoughts aside and ignored the incessant whispers from my guardian angels.

That is the gift of youthful exuberance. We believe that leaping is favorable to looking. We believe that the world is our oyster. And it is right there for the taking … if we just had the courage to begin.
In Berlin, I seemed to have a great year. I had many lovely roles to dance and the opportunities seemed to come my way more often than not. Some of the patterns of competition that had been so overt had lessened. I was becoming proficient in German and was even dreaming in German. Quite an accomplishment because when the subconscious mind it conversing in German it means that something is more deeply integrated.

A few odd things happened that year.

The first was that as we were performing on stage, and I went to take a curtain call, there was this young man, front and center, out in the audience, that was standing up, screaming bravo!

I would come off stage and the other dancers who noticed would say, Do you know that guy?

I replied “No!”

And then I honestly did not think much about it.
I was after all, married to my art and relationships were something that I did not have much time for. Nor the energy to engage.

Ballet took everything I had each and every day. My emotional bandwidth did not include any desire to connect with others on a social level that were not within the theater.
But performance after performance, this man would be there. It got to be kind of funny but being so naïve, it never crossed my mind that this man was interested in me.
One day, during the winter of 1981, I was walking home from the theater after a show. It is dark and cold. I have my big winter coat with the hood up, gloves on, and my head down because of the relentless Berlin winds.

I reached for the door to my building with my keys in my hand when someone put their right hand on my left shoulder and called my first name, “Suzanne?”

I turned around to see a tall Frenchman, standing there in the freezing cold.

Startled, and a bit alarmed, I looked up to see if I was in danger. It is unnerving for someone to touch you just before you go into a building!

He spoke in broken German with a very French accent, and stuttered out, “I would like to ask you to coffee, if that would be alright with you.”
Taken off guard and not knowing what to do but knowing I wanted to get into my building and be safe. I looked carefully at this man, seeing that he was a decent enough fellow, a bit forward (but most Latin men are) and I hesitated.

He saw the hesitation, and said that he loved watching me at the performances and thought I was an amazing dancer and he just wondered if we could get to know each other better.

I had to give him ten points for guts and courage. It is not an easy thing to ask anyone out and me especially.

I found myself breathing slightly easier and decided to give him a chance.

After all, “It was only coffee!”
We arranged to meet at a Coffee House nearby on my day off and I wanted to just get in my building but he grabbed my hand to say “Thank you!” but kissed my hand in the classic French way with the word, “Merci!”

I quickly went into my building and practically ran to my apartment. Terrified and thrilled all at the same time.

“Did someone just ask me out? Did that really just happen?”

I got in my door and closed the door with my back against it breathing oddly. Not certain if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
I tried to not think about it as the day slowly arrived and considered a few times in my mind about not showing.
“I did not have time for this!” I would state clearly in my mind.

But also knowing that no one ever really had the courage to ask me out.

Even for my Senior Prom, I knew no one would ask me out. So I asked a twenty-year-old dancer that I worked with if he would take me to the Prom?
I explained that I knew he had a girlfriend, and I was not trying to really date him, I just really wanted to go to the prom and that it was something that I really did not want to miss.
Shockingly he had agreed. I think that he must have not gone to his Senior Prom and knew how it felt. Not only did Brad take me out, but he also got me the corsage and acted the whole time like he was my real boyfriend.
All the kids at school were shocked to see me with an “older man”.

I loved that fact that the other students were suddenly uncertain about who they thought I was.
It even gave me a bit of an “exotic” reputation, at the time.
Oddly, one that type of reputation followed me throughout my dancing years.
It is so interesting to me that people see something and assume what they want to believe … all the time.
But that just showed that they did not really know me, they did not know what made me tick and the totally did not know what was so deeply inside and buried in my heart.
Throughout all my dancing years, I would often room with the gay men.
There was a terrific reason for that!
Gay men … ate!
You think I am joking but it is true. Men eat and the girls would look at what I was eating and say, “You aren’t really going to eat that in front of me. Are you?”

And I would said, “Watch me!”, as I took a big bite of a cake!

Besides, the gay men were funny, entertaining, and much less serious than the women in ballet.
We would carry-on about crazy things and laugh. I found them much more honest and authentic than straight men. (They seemed to have a one track mind.)

This would be something that would give me great humor over the years because I was the virgin ballerina. The idea of sex at that age seemed way too terrifying and distracting to even entertain.

On all levels, I was not emotionally mature enough, nor was I ready, or willing to put my big toe in that convoluted place. I had things to do, people to see, and amazing places to go.

Dating was not on that list. I knew I would wait until I had done what I wanted in my career and traveled the world. Once I had fulfilled all my selfish goals … perhaps then I would put the energy and effort into a relationship.

Now, I actually had a date! Yes, it was just coffee, but it was a date …right? He did ask me out?
I kept wandering around in my mind.

Frustrated at myself, I decided that I had to have better mental discipline. This process was so terribly distracting! Focus Suzanne!!! Focus!

The day arrived and I tried to dress casually. After all, it was just coffee.

In Germany, coffee time is around 4 pm, unlike the mornings that dominate coffee houses in the US.
I had mulled over what to wear. Fortunately, at that time … clothes were not my priority. And my closet was very small. I quickly realized that I had nothing to wear to really impress for a coffee date. It was winter and it was very cold outside so jeans and a big sweater would have to suffice.
At least it was a sweater that I had personally knitted! It was unique.
I arrive on time, a critical habit of a dancer. And he is there.

One point for him. Being late is a terrible way to start with me.

We both order some coffee and some “kuchen” or in English, “cake.”

We start talking. And we realize that his German is not that great, but his English is much better, so we drop German for English.
He is nice enough. But his body language is a bit forward.

I notice such things.

He explains that he is a French Doctor in the French sector in Berlin with the army.

He is clearly Jewish based on his looks and mannerisms and his former pronunciation of German.

This began the cycle of me dating many Jewish men in my life over the next few years.

I don’t know why … but I understand Jewish men and can handle the patterns that they utilize frequently. I figured I must have been Jewish in past lives somewhere and I would later remember those moments in graphic detail.

But in this moment, here is a smart man that is successful and he seems interested in me.

It was exciting but also scary.

I was spanning a space between being a girl and a woman. I was not sure where I stood on that line and exploring the feelings with trepidation and uncertainty.
He was curious and a bit forward.

I wonder if men know how aggressive their energy is towards women … even when they believe they are trying to have control over their … urges!
Being surrounded by gay men in the ballet at that time, it was an energy that was more unfamiliar to me and slightly … irritating.
But I accepted the offer for another date and while I was not sure if I liked or disliked him, I recognized the tremendous effort he took to be bold and to go for what he wanted.

The next date we went to dinner, and he took me to the nicest place I had been to at that time. It was more expensive than I would attempt but it was not ridiculous. Clearly, he wanted to impress without seeming to be ridiculously rich.
That was good, I don’t like those that are too ostentatious.
On that date … I learned that he was Jewish and raised in Paris. (One of my favorite cities in the world.)
We talked about the beauty of the city, our favorite spots, favorite cafes, and favorite artists.
It was lovely to discover some common ground.

That date I thought that maybe … just maybe … I could do the dating thing.
The next date, he wanted to take me to a movie. I thought that might be harmless enough.

First mistake.

We get to this movie, and I am interested in the movie. He was interested in me!

At first, he wants to hold my hand. That is fine.
But suddenly this guy is blowing in my ear!

What the hell!

What is wrong with this guy!

That is what my immature girl brain thinks!
He is suddenly all over me in the darkness.

I am unsure what to do. I am pulling away. (Which should have been a clue!)
And he just can’t stop himself.
Self-control is something that all dancers respect. Without it, dancers would be lost and unsuccessful.
I personally need to have a man that has respectful self-control.

Now this guy is not only making me uncomfortable, he is making me mad.

I try to tell him such and he is still unable to pull back enough to allow me space to breathe.

I get up to move and tell him that it is time to leave.

He looks at me in confusion.

He asks what is wrong?

I tell him that I am not comfortable with what he is doing and that I am going home now.

I am walking out of the theater with him following. We get outside and I begin to move towards the U-Bahn and he seems completely uncertain.

He asks for me to stop walking and I turn towards him, glaring.

He says that he is confused and that I am not acting like all the Americans he has seen.

I ask what Americans is he referring to?

He said the Americans in the Movies!

Seriously? He is thinking I am going to act like the women in the movies? What planet is this guy on? Even I know the difference between fantasy and reality, and I am living in a bubble of the fairy tale world!
I turn back towards the subway entrance in disgust.
Suddenly it seems to register to him some fact.

He asks, “Wait, have you never had sex with anyone?

I turned and said, “I have never had a date!”
He stops and stares at me in disbelief.

Then he says, “I want to take you home to meet my Mama!”

That was when I was very clear that I was not remotely ready to go with him to meet Mama!
And I told him such.

He (too late) realized how far he had pushed me and now he was backing up as fast as possible.

I asked for me to give him another chance and that he did not realize a lot of things and that because of the American movies he thought that all American women were loose and liked what he was doing!

Ugh! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What reality was this? Not one that was remotely interesting to me at the time.

He literally got down on one knee to hold my hand and beg me to not give up yet and that he was going to take me to the theater and a play next week.

He pleaded for me to give him one more chance.
Reluctantly I agreed.

We were to go to the play …  the following week.

I was not really happy with my decision and I knew that I was emotionally not ready for whatever this dating thing was.

But the following week, I got dressed and went to the theater.

It was still chilly, but not the death of winter.

I am standing outside the theater, people are rushing in. And there is no Jewish Doctor showing up. I don’t have the tickets and I have no way to get into the building.

I hear the bell ring for the audience to be seated inside.

The outer doors close and I am left standing outside in the cold.

It seemed clear that this dance was over.

I went home and about an hour later, he calls, in a rush, panicked, and apologetic.

He is a doctor and he was called to an emergency and could not get a hold of me because when he called … I had already left for the theater.
It was an honest response.

But I told him that I was really no longer interested in dating at this time anyway and that he had a demanding career, and so did I.

He tried to talk me out of it but my mind was set.

He finally agreed and we said our goodbyes over the phone.

I got off the phone and was so relieved to be done with this chapter.

I could see that what it required to merge with another was too much for me at this time.

To this day I like confidence … not cockiness in men.
I like men who have self-control and are able to read the body language of a person.

I like men that want to love a woman but are not in desperate need of one.
I like men who have a steady quality and an air of knowing who they already are.
We learn a lot about who we are when we are dealing with others. We learn our boundaries in ways that are new and disconcerting.

While I do not think I handled my first foray into the dating world perfectly. I did learn a lot and I learned more of who I am and what I find attractive.
We cannot grow without a few bumps.

He was not a bad person … just a person who was attracted to the assumptions he saw on the silver screen.

He was living in a fantasy and on many levels so was I.

I have learned that like … attracts like. Meaning that where we are at, we will pull in others on that same frequency.

It is a mirror that shows us ourselves in ways that are not always pleasant.

I saw how emotionally immature I was. How stifled I was in understanding the actions of others. How much I still had to grow to become a real adult. And I learned what I needed to become a better communicator in what I wanted and what I didn’t want.
All of these are very good things to notice about oneself.

It was going to serve me well in the future.
But at that time, I was relieved to be able to go back into my safe and comfortable cave in the ballet world.
~Suzanne Wagner~