Okay. I think I've teased about this in other posts. So, time to 'fess up.
I'm a pole dancer.
Yup.
You read that right.
Me, Jeanne the librarian. Swings on a pole once a week at her dance class. Have since January.
And I absolutely love it.
The class is all adult women - 12 students, 1 teacher. The studio is usually dim, disco ball spinning, bouncing light off the mirrors and the 13 silvery poles. Deep purple velvet curtains hang from the windows. Black rubber floors cushion our feet (whether heeled or (as I have lately) bare.)
Right now, I've mastered the invert - going upside down on the pole. We've been working on letting go with our hands while we are upside down... Something I'm not very comfortable with, to say the least!! Which actually makes the women in my class laugh - because I'm usually the one who is game for taking off outer layers of clothes.
So, you are probably wondering (if you've gotten your jaws off the ground,) why, in all that's holy, would someone recovering from an eating disorder WANT to learn to pole dance, let alone strip????
In early January, before I started taking classes, I was completely insecure about my body. I hated my sexu@lity, my sexu@lness and everything that made my body feminine. And I wanted to change this legacy that my brother and cousin left me. I wanted to take back my body and love it.
My instructor, Stephanie, is amazing. From the moment I stepped into my first class, she made me and each and every woman in the room feel beautiful. Even in my long sleeves and yoga pants that covered every inch of my skin, I felt alluring.
It's funny, looking back now. I had forgotten how uncomfortable I was with dancing in front of others. The only way I could really get into the moves was to close my eyes. (Something I still do from time to time, but I don't
need to anymore.)
As I've progressed through each level (the studio where I go has six levels of classes before one becomes a Pole Master,) I've become bolder. And I've let it show. For class, I wear a tight pair of short shorts and a T-shirt that molds to my curves. Both match my 6-inch platform, red-white-and-blue heels. (Which I haven't worn in weeks because of my ankle. 8-( )
But where I've noticed it the most is on the inside. When I look in the mirror and I see the chubby little girl from long ago, I do a hip circle and suddenly, I'm a hot momma who can swing on a pole! Yeah, baby!
I walk taller. I feel the strength inside of me.
I like my body. And sometimes, I even love it, if only for a few moments.
The point is that I am slowly claiming my body for myself - relishing the strength of my muscles, cherishing the miraculous wonder that is me.
Sheila Kelley says it best in her book
The S Factor, "I love to pole-dance and strip... I don't do it for money, and I don't do it for strangers. I stripdance for myself... I do it because it makes me look and feel extraordinary. Because it lets me soar high above the world and its troubles. Because when I dance, layers of self-doubt and self-consciousness fall away to reveal my true, powerful self." (page ix)
And while I may still cover up my true self in my day-to-day life, I know that she exists now. And with every gracefully landed spin on the pole, I come closer to letting her see the light of each and every day.
I'm a pole dancer.
Yup.
You read that right.
Me, Jeanne the librarian. Swings on a pole once a week at her dance class. Have since January.
And I absolutely love it.
The class is all adult women - 12 students, 1 teacher. The studio is usually dim, disco ball spinning, bouncing light off the mirrors and the 13 silvery poles. Deep purple velvet curtains hang from the windows. Black rubber floors cushion our feet (whether heeled or (as I have lately) bare.)
Right now, I've mastered the invert - going upside down on the pole. We've been working on letting go with our hands while we are upside down... Something I'm not very comfortable with, to say the least!! Which actually makes the women in my class laugh - because I'm usually the one who is game for taking off outer layers of clothes.
So, you are probably wondering (if you've gotten your jaws off the ground,) why, in all that's holy, would someone recovering from an eating disorder WANT to learn to pole dance, let alone strip????
In early January, before I started taking classes, I was completely insecure about my body. I hated my sexu@lity, my sexu@lness and everything that made my body feminine. And I wanted to change this legacy that my brother and cousin left me. I wanted to take back my body and love it.
My instructor, Stephanie, is amazing. From the moment I stepped into my first class, she made me and each and every woman in the room feel beautiful. Even in my long sleeves and yoga pants that covered every inch of my skin, I felt alluring.
It's funny, looking back now. I had forgotten how uncomfortable I was with dancing in front of others. The only way I could really get into the moves was to close my eyes. (Something I still do from time to time, but I don't need to anymore.)
As I've progressed through each level (the studio where I go has six levels of classes before one becomes a Pole Master,) I've become bolder. And I've let it show. For class, I wear a tight pair of short shorts and a T-shirt that molds to my curves. Both match my 6-inch platform, red-white-and-blue heels. (Which I haven't worn in weeks because of my ankle. 8-( )
But where I've noticed it the most is on the inside. When I look in the mirror and I see the chubby little girl from long ago, I do a hip circle and suddenly, I'm a hot momma who can swing on a pole! Yeah, baby!
I walk taller. I feel the strength inside of me.
I like my body. And sometimes, I even love it, if only for a few moments.
The point is that I am slowly claiming my body for myself - relishing the strength of my muscles, cherishing the miraculous wonder that is me.
Sheila Kelley says it best in her book The S Factor, "I love to pole-dance and strip... I don't do it for money, and I don't do it for strangers. I stripdance for myself... I do it because it makes me look and feel extraordinary. Because it lets me soar high above the world and its troubles. Because when I dance, layers of self-doubt and self-consciousness fall away to reveal my true, powerful self." (page ix)
And while I may still cover up my true self in my day-to-day life, I know that she exists now. And with every gracefully landed spin on the pole, I come closer to letting her see the light of each and every day.