Why I Keep Pole Dancing 🪩
I just did my 2nd pole performance workshop last night and now I’m met with some post-show blues. Thought I’d sit down and put pen to paper on what I’ve been reflecting on 💭
I’ve been asked this question “Why do you like pole?” quite a few times and thinking about this…. the TLDR is that it’s the one thing where I learned how to embrace and explore my femininity in safe, supportive, and empowering spaces.
Growing up with Vietnamese refugees as my parents, I was met with the “Vietnamese traditions” in the household. (My couples’ therapist later tells me that toxic traits passed down multiple generations can be seen as “tradition” but they ain’t tradition!).
Anytime my brother had more freedom than I did growing up, I was told “Because you’re a girl” when I asked for the same privileges.
When I started my period, rather than it being a moment of celebration, I was met with shame and was angrily told, “Nothing goes up there until you’re married”.
It seemed like the air we breathed as a society was a lot of slut-shaming. I remember in high school, a group of girls was outside a classroom and I asked them what they were doing there. They responded that someone was pregnant and they were there to see her. Quite literally, to gawk at her as if we’re at a zoo.
In college, my more promiscuous female friends were slut-shamed and judged by male and female friends.
I, myself, felt like I wasn’t allowed to be or feel pretty, to wear certain clothing, to even be liked or looked at by any guys for fear of being shamed by both male and female friends (don’t worry, I’m no longer friends with these folks).
I learned that it’s dangerous to be a girl. Girls get less, girls are inferior. Just hide, don’t make any noise, be quiet, don’t stick out. If you do and you get hurt, it’s your fault.
Fast forward to me signing up for my first performance workshop. Only having tried pole twice in 10 years, I wanted to jump head-first so that I could be committed and not quit when things got hard.
In the first few classes, I felt awkward. When instructed to do body rolls, I felt self-conscious. I had only done that publicly while grinding on someone else at the club in my 20s with some alcohol to help me feel confident (you know, socially appropriate ways 😅)!
Now sober and being instructed to do so, I always chose the back pole (stay hidden, it’s safer that way). And now, even instructing to serve face, touch my body, hair flips - all these things were new and challenging for me.
While I practiced yoga, and this helped with body awareness, THIS was another level, a growth edge for me to embrace and move my body in ways that I previously learned were shameful.
Fortunately, at the studio I signed up for, I danced with such supportive, affirming, and empowering folks who gently supported me in this practice. I was showered constantly with words of affirmation. I learned about “alter egos” and channeling that.
Over 3 months, I started unlearning the misogynistic memories my body held. As one of my fellow dancers said, “We allow[ed] ourselves to show up [and] shake the trauma from our hips”.
Now after my 2nd performance, it’s a practice I want to continue. It’s still a place where I feel the most empowered. My husband would jokingly say, “You don’t even do that for me”. But truthfully, this is for me first and foremost.
It’s a safe place for me to undress, shake my ass, embrace my sexuality and femininity in a space where it’s celebrated and encouraged. In the inclusive and community-oriented spaces that pole has created, I can only hope it becomes society’s norm.
And lastly but importantly, I want to acknowledge the strippers and sex workers from which this practice comes, allowing stunted folks like me to grow, heal, and benefit from ❤️🩹
