I took a pole dancing class last night.
Since I’m a writer, I did it strictly for the job.(I lie to myself sometimes)
The truth is that I’ve been wanting to try it for a while now. Because its looked pretty enticing, kind of like that fried rice I’ve been meaning to order.
I’m thinking, “I can get a good workout in, use my yoga and gymnastics skills and learn how to POLE DANCE without having to hire myself out as a stripper? (“YES x 1000,” says my inner sex goddess)
And let me tell you, it was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.
I walked into a discrete building with dark hardwood covering the ground. There were eight poles attached from floor to ceiling and a wall of mirrors illuminated by a thin strip of purple lights. I got that feeling you get when your crush texts you, kind of giddy, kind of impatient and really, really excited.
My instructor was a petite, ex-professional ballerina, who also happens to be a schoolteacher, the epitome of “good girl gone naughty.” At least, that’s what society would say. I would just say that she’s f*cking awesome.
The experience was incredible. Not only was it an insane workout, but the energetic and nonjudgmental energy from the other women in the room was the definition of “girl power.”
It was an intro class, so we learned the basics, like how to avoid injury, how to swing around a pole and most of all, how to booty pop. My white girl a*s was really proud.
The biggest thing I learned was how to let go, how to loosen my body and embrace the sensuality of my movements.
And it was hot.
Yeah, it was pretty warm in the room, but I mean “hot” in an aesthetic sort of way.
Do you know how sexy it is to just let your body “do” without thought?
Sure, there are logistics. Sure, there is technique. But once you get it, it’s you who creates the passion, not the shiny, metal, non-breathing pole that’s stuck to the ground in front of you.
When I walked into the class, I was eager. Sure, I felt a little insecure about my body in its tiny shorts. It’s only natural to start comparing yourself to others in this kind of situation. But, I was surprised at how little focus I put on the women around me. This time was about me, and I was planning on making the most of it.
It was beautiful, because I felt beautiful, inside and out.
I felt empowered and elegant, bold yet graceful, sexy, yet kind of innocent. I didn’t have to take off my clothes and have dollars bills shoved down my bra to embrace my sexuality. I didn’t have to give a strip tease to anyone to dance like a goddess.
I didn’t feel used, or hurt, or sexualized.
I just felt confident.
And confidence is a pretty spectacular feeling, don’t you think?