I’m not a (good) dancer. When I was little, I always wished my mom had signed me up for ballet or tap—any kind of dance class. But she never did, so I was left creating my own routines.

As a cheerleader in eighth grade I got my first chance to perform.

I practiced tirelessly in my room in front of the mirror, even hitting my foot on the dresser. It stung for a few minutes that felt like an eternity — I thought I might not dance again.

Don’t worry, I was back to my overly enthusiastic and two-left footed self within five minutes.

 When I was a junior in high school, the Beyoncé song “Single Ladies” was insanely popular. Naturally, I locked myself in the computer room in my house and watched the video repeatedly, until I could mimic the dance routine.

I was just like that girl from “Flashdance” or Baby in “Dirty Dancing” — I was a maniac and no one could put me in a corner.

One little difference between us, though, was that I didn’t have a shred of coordination. When I banged my foot on the shelf while practicing the “Single Ladies” routine, I took it as a sign.

That sharp, yet familiar, pain in my foot marked my unofficial retirement from dance.

I say unofficial because I didn’t stop. I still dance at weddings, in the car and at my boyfriend’s high school dances (eh, bad joke).

Anyway, when I saw people at a YMCA in a Zumba class looking like they were filming an infomercial, I knew I had to try it.

For those who don’t know what Zumba is, it’s a high-energy class that combines different kinds of dance, perfect for the semi-retired dance professional.

I stood in the back; I figured that would allow me to survey the area best. The instructor had a headset and didn’t explain anything. She just started dancing, and everyone knew what to do.

Obviously, I was in a class full of regulars. As I looked around, I spotted someone who looked as lost as me.

It was an 80-year-old man in the front row, looking bewildered but still trying to gyrate to “Miss Independent” by Ne-Yo.

I was equally amused and intrigued. If this guy could do it, I certainly could. The class went fast, and it was an awesome workout.

Trying new things like Zumba is important to me, and this column has pushed me to explore things I don’t normally gravitate toward. I’m by no means an expert in health and fitness; it’s just something I genuinely enjoy.

In a few weeks, I’ll walk across the stage at graduation, which will be another new experience.

After that, I have no idea what I’ll do next. I don’t have a job secured or a five-year plan. It might be naïve, but I believe life is a little like Zumba.

You can jump in the front or back row, completely clueless in the beginning, but you’ll figure it out along the way—even if you’re the clumsiest dancer.