Returning to the Theater

Right before news about Omicron heated up, I went back to the theater for the first time in almost two years. I waffled all afternoon, but the reality was that the theater situation (vaccine-mandated and masked) was better than the twins’ school situation (only masked). If we sent them to school, we should also be willing to go into the theater.

I mean, yes, school is mandatory, and theater is a choice. But still.

I expected to feel emotional entering the theater. I went from attending shows several times per month to staying home for two years. Of course it was going to be emotional. But I sobbed as we walked to our seats. I was overwhelmed to be in a space that felt like home.

I didn’t expect to feel so panicked about sitting in a seat. I felt like my nervous system was inflamed from being around so many people. (It was a small theater, but I haven’t been around other humans in almost two years.) It took me a long time to calm down afterward.

And I didn’t expect to cry so hard at the end of the show. We were seeing Hedwig and the Angry Inch — a favorite — and the song “Midnight Radio” gets to me on a normal day.

But this wasn’t a normal day. This was my first time in two years being at an opening night, seeing hundreds of arms stretched up to the ceiling at the same time, swaying in unison. I haven’t missed going to the movie theater because I can recreate watching a film at home. And I haven’t missed eating in a restaurant because I can bring the food home. But I’ve missed having a collective experience with people, feeling the same thing at the same time.