I attend pole dance classes 3-4 times each week, and then rent the studio for a few hours of solo practice.
Since I don’t have a car here in Portugal, it’s a forty minute drive to the studio by Uber, and it takes 2-3 hours longer by train.
Clearly, I’m committed. 😂
But I’m not alone in my pole addiction. At every class I’m joined by five other ladies (and the occasional gentleman, who is amazing!)
Let me paint the picture for you:
The studio is on the first floor (really the second floor for us Yanks) with lots of natural sunlight, a mirrored wall at the front, and faux wood flooring. Seven sterling steel poles are affixed from floor to ceiling.
At any given class, you’ll see seven ladies basically in their underwear, pulling themselves up and throwing themselves around a pole that spins at the same time.
Pole is not for the faint of heart.
It requires strength, flexibility, body awareness, and most of all, becoming bullet-proof to discouragement.
The first time you try a spin or a trick it’s almost always an ugly mess.
You will fail. You will look ridiculous. Some of the things you’re asked to do (hang by one leg while spinning upside down) can be downright terrifying.
You will struggle with a trick for weeks (or months), all while the instructor or the lady next to you executes it with ease.
You’ll hear squeals of excitement, but you’re just as likely to see a woman fighting tears.
So last night, I’m at the studio and this scene plays out:
The woman behind me is new to pole and native Portuguese. She has short, curly blonde hair and fake eyelashes, badass tattoos covering her body and bright red toenails.
I think she’s fabulous. 😍
Anyway, this is a Pole Spin level 1-2 class, which means it’s not for beginners.
Before we begin, the badass says, “I’m still recovering from my injured shoulder, so I might not do very well.”
Another woman across the room sprays a cloth with alcohol to clean her pole. She’s originally from Austria, also blonde with plaited hair and no makeup. We’ve taken more advanced classes together and I know she’s obsessed with surfing.
She’s also a badass, in the surfer way.
The surf poler says, “I spent two hours on the water this morning. I have no energy for class.”
Both these ladies, making excuses for their lack of ability – and we haven’t even touched a pole.
Learning pole dance can teach you everything you need to know about creating something new with grace, ease and power.
I’m not just saying this because I’m a pole addict. Bear with me…
If I expect myself to be great, but my hands won’t stick to the pole, or the spin makes me dizzy, then I feel disappointed. Discouraged. And that looks like a Really Bad Thing.
In the beginning, I judged myself so harshly that my experience was awful. Something needed to change or I would give up.
So I got curious. What is so bad about discouragement?
I have absolutely no idea how my next move will go, or what I’ll think and feel when it does.
Even if I fail at a trick, I can show up fresh on my next attempt, and I don’t know how that will go, either.
I noticed that discouragement and disappointment can’t hurt me, and they sure as hell can’t stop me.
I stopping paying them mind, and they stopped showing up so much. Now, when discouragement makes a guest appearance, I flip him the bird and go back to what I’m doing:
Learning. Growing. Moving. Dancing.
Discovering something new about myself, my body, and what it’s capable of.
My motto for pole dance:
“Every time I touch the pole, I win.”
With every class and every attempt, I get better. Even if it looks to the outside eye (and to me) that I’m a complete mess.
💪🏼💖💪🏼
You’re supposed to look messy and make mistakes. That’s how creation works, especially when you’re trying something new.
You don’t need to apologize for your performance or manage your expectations — you can handle any feeling that comes.
And nothing can stop you. 💖
Yours in love and play,
Steph
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