Performing!

When I first started pole, almost exactly two years ago, I thought it might be something fun to do in my spare time. A secret skill to make me smile on depressing days, a way to relax and have fun. I never thought of performing. In fact, a few months into taking classes, my fiancée Joe asked me if I would ever want to perform. My instructor had performed a few times at a local bar, and I had seen the YouTube videos. I thought it would be terrifying to be watched by so many people, critiqued and criticized. I don't even like public speaking, let alone dancing.

However, once I progressed past the awkward stage and started to feel confident in my movements, I reconsidered. A few times, beginner students had arrived early and the students in the intermediate classes (including me) did a free dance while they watched. I was constantly watching and practicing in front of my fellow students. I started to think it might not be such a huge deal.

When my friend Sergia asked me to perform at her studio opening, a month prior to the date, I was thrilled and flattered... and completely panicked. Performing for a crowd, in theory, is exciting. In my head, it's no big deal. But I know better - just the thought made my palms sweat.

So I decided to start training like crazy. I came to classes three times a week. I went to workshops. I tried other studios. I practiced at home. When the poles were installed at Sergia's studio, I went over almost every day. Suddenly, I was shocked at my progress. I was so much stronger and more flexible.
Having a goal to reach for really focused my dancing, and was the best kind of discipline. I couldn't let myself get away with doing anything halfway anymore. I pushed myself to completely extend every move until I ached, transition like liquid silk, and pay strict attention to my instructors. Most of all, I found sources of inspiration and clung to them. YouTube served up all kinds of amazing videos to inspire me. Bellydancer Zoe Jakes and her brilliant, flashing eyes and delicious shimmying hips. Steven Retchless at Apple Jelly Studios, a sweeter and more passionate performance than I had ever seen before. Jenyne Butterfly at Pole Art, with her moving-through-water control and grace. Wade Robson's choreography to Slow Dancing In A Burning Room. Pure, raw, soul-wrenching movements.

I struggled to put together a routine and ran into the same frustration every dancer does - how to fit every single one of my favorite moves into a four minute song. I switched songs again and again. Finally, on the advice of a few dancer friends, just days before the opening I threw away everything I had, returned to my original song and perfected passes I had already been working on. The rest of my favorite moves could wait for the next performance. This would be a simple, pretty routine full of moves I loved, to a song I loved, and I would focus on making sure the audience knew I loved it.

Everything fell into place from there on out. I practiced a few times in front of small groups, friends of Sergia's, and felt great. When I finally leaned against the pole to start my routine, with the crowd waiting around me, I felt the butterflies start to rise in my stomach... but as soon as I started my climb and felt my body respond to the music, they evaporated.

It's not a perfect performance, but it's one that I can be proud of. I learned what my body can do when I train hard. And it made me hungry for the next time.