A few years ago pole dancing became
a new fitness craze. I’m not talking
about what happens in strip clubs…that’s
been popular for decades. I mean housewives
and working women who plugged into gym classes
that combined cardiac and aerobic fitness exercise
with the sensual moves of pole dancers. Husbands
and lovers cheered the fad. Women who developed
the physical stamina to lift and hold their body
weight while adopting and maintaining erotic moves
reported not only firmly toned bodies but rejuvenated
sex lives.
Predictably, pole-dancing-as-exercise
quickly became a fad. Soon its advocates
were doing the talk show circuit, happy hubbies
in tow, showing off their slim, toned bodies and
sexually-sated smiles. They knew how many
calories a half hour of sex burned and how many
chocolate covered strawberries added. They
gushed about how desirable they had become to the
men in their lives. Even Teri Hatcher
of Desperate Housewives did a routine for
America’s unconvinced women. The message
was clear: if you pole dance, you will look
great and your man will want you.
I was reminded of the issue recently
while watching The King of Queens, one more
sitcom about a working class couple, but rare in
that Doug and Carrie actually enjoy sex. In
this episode, Carrie installs a pole in the bedroom
and, despite lessons, lacks the sense of the erotic
in her body. Doug is a lusty fellow and is
in a quandary—the ‘erotic’ dancing
is wilting his lily. Carrie is going through
the motions but not the emotions. Finally
rotund yet sensual Doug asks Carrie to be the audience
while he works the pole. Though he can’t
do the contortions of his tiny wife, he shows her
how to offer his body, how to tease and seduce,
and how to glory in the sensations of anticipation
and erotic power…and he’s hot!
I’m advocating pole dancing
for everyone, whether literal or philosophical. What
successful erotic dancers know (and what Carrie
and the talk show groupies were missing) is that
a tight body and physical prowess may be the vehicle,
but what drives the engine is the theatrics of
seduction. When we realize that an evening
of bliss with our honey follows our dance of desire,
we need only be at home in our body and with our
sexuality to design an entertainment package of
mutual pleasure.
But there’s the rub, isn’t
it? The part about being at home in our body
and with our sexuality. I don’t know
anyone who is comfortable—really comfortable—with
their body, so ingrained is it that we can’t
possibly measure up to impossible standards. And
of course if we believe we do we are chastised
for our vanity. So let’s consider it
a given that we have body issues. The pragmatic
truth is that we can either wait to have fun with
sex until we become tall, thin, young, and beautiful….or
we can get over ourselves and have that fun now. Our
lovers already know (and want) our imperfect bodies,
and we theirs. Replacing the bashful hesitant
routine with sensual abandon will reignite sparks
of passion and reconstitute intimacy. It’s
a good deal.
Feeling comfortable with sexuality
is an ongoing process. We live in a culture uneasy
with sex. We are simultaneously compelled
and overwhelmed by its ever-present nature. We
are curious and ignorant and don’t know where
to go for answers. Pole dancing? That
requires some chutzpah! You bet it does. Dancing
for our lover means owning our body and offering
it willingly, by choice and with intent. It
reeks of animal desire. We risk rejection. Many
women have little practice with this, but it’s
good for us. And when we shoot our lover
a sultry look, lock eyes, and purr…when
we slither our body over our partner’s in
a manner that leaves no doubt as to our libidinous
intentions…when we dance and spin and abandon
our body to the thrill of desire and anticipation,
then we will have captured the essence of what
makes strip clubs the multimillion dollar industry
they are. And we can do that at home with
someone we love who loves us in return.
We don’t have to have six
pack abs or a size four body. We don’t
need a gym membership to a place with windows overlooking
a busy street. We don’t even need a
pole. We need a saucy attitude, some costumes,
and overflowing desire. Then we need to face
our fears and dance our way to bliss. We’ll
feel liberated, and our mate will feel wanted.
You’ll wonder why you ever
waited.
Ed. Note: Interested in learning
how to pole dance at home? Try Sheila
Kelley's site, The S Factor!
© 2006. Pega Ren,
Ed.D. All Rights Reserved.