For the past two years I’ve had the opportunity to go out clubbing on an average of once every month. While initially it was a heady rush, at some point the party life just starts feeling like the same night over and over again, like “Groundhog Day” except I don’t look like Bill Murray and the music playing on the sound system isn’t “I Got You, Babe” by Sonny and Cher.

What drew me to it in the first place? Well, it was an opportunity to get dolled up and wear my most outrageous heels. Most days of the month I live in flipflops and sneakers and don’t feel remotely glamorous. And sure, I got to hang out among beautiful people and bump elbows with celebrities and feel, just a little bit, like some of the glitz rubbed off on me. But in hindsight, I’m not sure how glamorous it is to come home smelling like smoke, with dark circles under my eyes from staying out so late, and have awful drunken-looking photos uploaded onto Facebook the next day.

Initially I also went out clubbing to dance. I teach BODYJAM in the gym and always like taking some of the moves out to the clubs and see if they actually can be used without people laughing. Unfortunately, club culture (at least in the clubs I go to) have people just bouncing around or bobbing their heads to the beat, occasionally singing along to familiar tunes. Nobody actually dances any choreography. Additionally the floors are usually over-packed with people, like sardines in a tin can. Good luck trying to find space to execute a flashy arm combo without smacking someone in the mouth.

These days I like being home before midnight, and I get to dance as often as I want when I teach BODYJAM anyway. I don’t know if this is me getting older, or just getting wiser. I’d rather make a night of meaningful memories breaking bread and getting deep into discussions about life’s meaning with friends than wake up the morning after clubbing to stories of embarrassing exploits that I can’t even remember because I was too drunk.

Not that I won’t go out anymore; of course I still will to hang out with people whom I won’t have opportunity to be with otherwise. But I’ll get my kicks from their company, rather than the nightlife culture itself. I’m over it.

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