I wholeheartedly resonate with the sentiment that pole dancing isn't everyone's cup of tea. Admittedly, even I, at 47, have echoed those words to myself when contemplating the idea of gracefully navigating a pole, rolling on the floor, and, occasionally, shaking my groove thang in the tiniest of booty shorts. The bigger conundrum, however, surfaces when you add the titles of being a 47-year-old, married, mommy of 3 who decides to venture into opening a new pole and aerial studio in a market teeming with youthful vigor. No, I'm no spring chicken, but let's not jump to senior living just yet. Having tried pole dancing once or twice, you'd understand the physical demand it places on a body—a body that, at this age, may not be as pliable and resilient as it once was.
Fast forward on the metaphorical cassette player, and here we are, aging gracefully, adding a few wrinkles to the mix. In the pole industry, they've coined a term for women like us— "master” polers. I can't help but chuckle at the notion of having mastered anything in life, especially pole dancing. The pole has a knack for humbling me on a daily basis, and my mastery lies more in attempting to defy wrinkles, keep my boobs up, and remember to empty my bladder to sneeze freely.
Let's be real; pole is no walk in the park. It's physically and emotionally demanding and has a way of making you confront yourself in the mirror in more ways than one. If you've ever given it a shot, you'd agree; it's far from easy. Now, throw in the challenge of "being and feeling sexy." Attempting to exude sensuality while grappling with a new pole trick can feel downright impossible at times. Amidst the struggle to figure out where your hand goes or how to spin without dizziness, feeling sexy might be the furthest thing from your mind. Yet, I've come to realize that sexy is a constant companion, patiently waiting for me to figure things out. When I'm ready to embrace it, it's game on, complete with a seductive hair toss.
Pole dancing has taken me on a profound journey of self-discovery, self-appreciation, and self-acceptance. It's been a winding road, strewn with challenges and triumphs, but it has endowed me with the courage to face fears, embrace weaknesses, celebrate strengths, and love all parts of myself—great and not so great. It's a medium through which I've learned that storms are part of everyone's journey, and navigating them together, while listening to provocative tunes, clad in little booty shorts, as we soar in the air and roll on the floor (and, occasionally, shake our booties), is therapeutic.
Pole has shown me that "normal" isn't a universal norm; life is a whirlwind of twists, turns, ups, downs, gray skies, and blue skies. Finding a tribe, a place, and a space where you belong makes navigating this rollercoaster of life more manageable. While friends and family hold special places in our hearts, discovering a sisterhood that resonates with you in this unique and sensually soulful way is nothing short of glorious. When you find it, you just know.
It's become my mission to craft this space—a sanctuary that embraces sisterhood, sensuality, and sacredness. A space that nurtures creativity and sensuality alike. A place that uplifts, upholds, and encourages each of us to embrace our fiercely feminine and sensual selves proudly. A space where we can boldly declare, "This is why a girl like us is in a place like this."
Danette