Gimme Gimme Disco
When I first moved to New York, I kept getting hit with Instagram ads for something called Gimme Gimme Disco. A traveling DJ party promising a night full of ABBA, Bee Gees, Donna Summer, and disco hits from the '70s and '80s. Sequins and glitter strongly encouraged.
I didn’t have any new friends in the city yet, but I still wanted to experience the night. My TikTok and Instagram feeds had been flooded with videos of disco dancing in clubs around the world, and I was desperate to be a part of it.
So I put on my best disco outfit, took an edible, and made my way to the West Village.
I got to the venue about 45 minutes after the doors opened and was still one of the first to arrive. I wandered around awkwardly until I landed on a spot near the DJ booth and just started dancing. Alone. Eventually, more people trickled in. I grabbed a couple of drinks, took another edible, and gave myself over to the music completely.
Now, I wasn’t just dancing. I was performing. I owned that dance floor. People even stepped out of my way to make room.
My dancing eventually caught the attention of a small group nearby. Girls and gays only—perfect energy. They pulled me into their orbit. We danced through a few songs before one of them leaned in and asked, “How long have you been living in New York?”
“I just got here a month ago,” I said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you find out about this?”
“Instagram ads! I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than dress up in disco fits and dance the night away.”
He looked at me, wide-eyed, and turned to say something to the others. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I could see the shocked and impressed looks on their faces. One of them leaned in and said over the music, “We’re kind of stunned that you just moved here. We thought you’d been in New York for years.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re just doing you. Most people who are new here are still trying to find their footing, still trying to blend in. But you’re taking up space. You’re being yourself. For someone who just got here, you’re doing New York really well.”
After that, I kept moving through the dance floor, completely in my element. Men tried to dance with me, but I didn’t have the desire to slow down or entertain someone trying to strike up conversation. At one point, I had three guys dancing around me trying to break in, but they all got the same response:
“No, I’m having a great time, thanks.”
Still, safety first. If any of them asked who I was with, I’d casually point to the compliment crew in the corner.
But that night was everything.
I danced for hours, unapologetically myself. I owned that floor. And I knew that night would set the tone for my New York experience. I wasn’t here to shrink or observe. I was here to take up space and be fully myself.
Since then, that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’ve been having the time of my life becoming more and more me.
I walked home at 3:00 a.m., still singing and dancing to the Bee Gees on the sidewalk.
I am home, baby.