Party for one

dancing alone to your favorite songs, a glass of wine and vape in hand, in your favorite underwear, just feeling yourself

I started partying alone recently.

My recent breakup with my best friend has left me alone in the dancing scene, but thankfully I volunteer at raves making sure that no matter what I’m never alone. If I wanna go dancing, there’s always someone willing to go with me. I call DJs by their first names, and they thank me for dancing so hard to their sets, sometimes behind the DJs themselves to bring the vibe of the room up.

But I also started partying alone in my apartment, turning the volume up on my speaker, drinking three-quarters of a bottle of wine, and vaping my way through some of my favorite techno songs I never hear in clubs because they only give us original music.

There’s nothing more liberating than putting on your favorite pair of lace underwear, and dancing like nobody’s watching (because no one is) with a glass of your favorite alcohol, letting Spotify (the devil) choose the songs for you on your recommended playlists listened.

There’s a sense of freedom to twerking alone, getting on the floor and dancing sexually, screaming lyrics to The Dare at full volume, vaping, and smoking cigarettes in your empty apartment.

I suffer from severe mental illnesses including long-term depression, severe PTSD, and long-term anxiety amongst others. I don’t feel good on most days but I force myself to wake up every morning to feel like each day is going to get better. And when I’m alone because my friend I was supposed to spend the night with cancels on our plans, instead of letting the bottle of wine I bought simmer in the fridge for another night, I started drinking it, and made a party for one.

Instead of calling it an early night with another book like I do every other night, I started dancing, feeling the sweat oozing off my body, getting more and more naked with each dance move. I felt like I was at a rave but making the playlist, playing to an audience of no one, dancing with the freedom of loneliness in my lace underwear and sports bra (it contains the boobs better let’s face it, partying in lingerie isn’t ideal) I felt better than I had in months.

I laughed manically, I shouted, I twerked, threw myself on the floor, and felt like Charli XCX on stage during the Brat tour. The freedom that comes from dancing like that, sight unseen, is unbelievable. I felt happier than I had in months, and all of that alone.

I’m a strong believer that alone time is better than time spent with others, some might say I haven’t met the right people, but I surround myself with quality artists of different mediums, sensitive people who get my ups and downs, and whom I can talk to honestly. But still, I need to spend a few nights of my week alone, curled up with a book in bed at 8 pm after my everything shower, but tonight, I felt like dancing like I haven’t danced in months.

I party often, it’s my main form of exercise, and it fills me with joy to listen to live music and be in a crowd of half-naked bodies losing themselves to the beat of the drums. I love talking to people there (even though they’re high most of the time) and I love the people I’ve met thanks to that. But there’s something different to dancing alone, in your apartment, with your cat having the zoomies while you’re dancing and just running around after your cat in the middle of the song.

I can dance without breaks for 6 hours, no drugs, no alcohol necessary, just me lost to the frantic beat of the tune, listening to DJ set after DJ set, hugging DJs after their set to thank them for their work, dancing with strangers that have their heads lost inside the speakers.

Here’s the playlist I was dancing to tonight, it’s filled with trans, electro, and hyperpop, beats that take Brat to another level beyond the mainstream. Songs Charli probably listens to when she’s not listening to herself (we all know she loves to listen to her own music and I live for it)

The party scene is filled with queer people who are unapologetic about themselves. If you go to the right places, it’s not about dressing in black tech-wear (looking at you Berghain, fun fact I went dressed in pink) it’s about dressing how you feel comfortable dancing, sometimes in a tracksuit and comfortable shoes, and everyone has an insane backstory.

One time I was backstage and talking to a guy whose cat was killed by heroin addicts, another time I was talking to a high organizer of the event about the myth of Sisyphus, and another girl approached me to talk about Plath’s fig tree. We talk about sexual harassment in those spaces and as someone who is part of the organization, we’re very careful with it, warning girls to raise their hands in the crowd to signal to security that they feel unsafe. We give away condoms, pads, and tissues, and always have food for those having a bad trip on drugs. We take care of each other. That’s what those spaces are for. It’s for losing yourself to the music however you want and we always take care of each other.

A subscriber once told me that going to techno bdsm raves went against my whole celibacy idea, and I disagree. I don’t go to those parties to fuck, and most people don’t, they go there to express themselves and feel free in their bodies, no matter their shape, and wear their sexiest lingerie and gags and chains for cis-guys. The idea when you go to techno parties, unlike regular clubs isn’t to hook up with a stranger, although it can happen, but it’s all about the music. It’s like going to a concert, you bring your friend or your lover, or go alone, and spend 6 hours dancing and chatting with people from different walks of life. You make friends you would’ve never imagined being friends with.

But partying alone, man there’s nothing like spending 2 hours lost to the music you chose, headbanging and dancing the way your body wants to dance, expressing itself in its purest form, getting more and more naked as sweat builds around your neck.

So here’s to party alone, please dance, whenever you feel like shit just dance it out, it helps so much with mental health. I’ve tried everything EMDR, hypnosis, you name it I’ve done it. But the only thing that helps when I feel this rush of energy through me is to dance it out. Whenever I feel such guilt or shame that I can’t get out of bed, I put on some hyperpop and dance it out alone in my bedroom.

So please, put on this playlist, put on your sports bra and pajamas, and dance, sing lyrics at the top of your lungs, dance like no one is watching, jump around, throw yourself on the floor, headbang, laugh because the world is burning and there’s so little we can do about it.

From Marseille with Love,

*vapes away*