On the small print of the tango contract (Helsinki)

Although I have been single-mindedly immersed in many different activities before, the way that tango digs its claws into you is without parallel.
Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that most of us who become addicted to it came to its realm at an unhappy time of our lives: reeling from the pain of a separation, lost and looking for a direction in life, lonely and sad. At such dark moments, one is willing to take any consolation there is, and tango offers plenty. The possibility of losing yourself in the proximity of another desperado's embrace, the freedom from trying to express your needs and emotions in words, the comforting knowledge that nothing more than 12 minutes of commitment is expected of you, all seem the perfect panacea for the disappointment of having failed to understand and be understood in the outside life. It is not uncommon for newcomers to think that most, if not all, of life's hurdles could be avoided if everybody just took up tango. ðŸ˜Š
So, almost without noticing, we sign up for the deepening dependence on this sensation of being understood, appreciated, loved even, for those precious 12 minutes at a time. However, the deal with tango doesn't come without small print. First, there is the law of diminishing returns. The more (time, money, effort, affection ) you invest, the more you need in return in order to feel the same gratification as in the beginning when it was enough just to be held and walked, however clumsily, around the pista while emotional music played in the background. Now, you search for the beauty of an honest, compassionate and sensitive presence, of two people being totally tuned into each other, of letting the music reveal their true self, of the complete trust that being yourself is enough.
Then, there are the growing expectations on yourself. Although tango technique is nowhere near the most demanding, despite hundreds of hours of practice you still find yourself falling into old, erroneous habits that block your progress. Whenever a stressful situation occurs, whether directly related to tango or not, the first thing that goes out of the window is your painstakingly slowly acquired finesse, smoothness, control of axis and groundedness. The exasperation this causes is for me probably the main reason why i frequently seriously consider giving up.
And finally, there is the social aspect. Being a tango dancer means being constantly exposed to the evaluation, comparison and rejection of those you wish to dance with but who prefer to dance with someone else. For some reason, the more you practice, the fewer people will dance with you, and this seems especially true for followers. In Buenos Aires, there may be other reasons for going to the milonga than just dancing, but in Europe there is little socialising amongst those not currently on the floor. Instead, they sit in silence, waiting for the tanda to end and hoping that this time, it would be their turn. It would be a lie to claim that the social isolation that many advanced followers experience doesn't affect them.
And still, we go back. We spend the hours away from the milonga listening to tango, planning our tango trips, searching for events to go to. We practice at home, at work, take private lessons and go to practicas in order to be worthy of the favourable gaze of the tango gods. For when it falls on you, when you are once again accepted inside the tango bubble, then it all makes perfect sense.

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