tumblr – The Spin Diaries: Your Guide to Everything Pole and Aerial

So this month’s blog hop is social media.

Which I have feelings about.

***Social Media*** scares me a little, in that there’s always pressure to be sharing everything, and then intense scrutiny when you do. (Or at least the sensation of it, admits this perfectionist).

Sometimes, I look at this silly little blog, and I think, look at all that white space. Look at all those words. PICTURES, VIDEO, THIS IS WHAT I NEED TO BE INTERESTING. I must prove to everyone that you actually DO do this several times a week and don’t just sit around critiquing everyone else’s hard work!

And then I do take a video, or a picture, and it’s just not. good. enough.

If my technique is good, the face is bad. If the form is good, the moves are boring. If I do something interesting and spontaneous, whoops, I look fat. All these conditions lead to the same conclusion: You don’t look like a pole dancer. DO NOT POST.

Which leads me to wonder: what does a pole dancer look like? Close your eyes and picture her. I bet we’re all seeing the same thing.

As Pole Dance Competition was writing, for the vast array of pole-related materials being posted out there, there’s not a whole lot of diversity.

In what, you may ask? In anything. Body type. Style. Music choice, even.

Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that in a sport dominated by women, we’re all terrified to step out of what we assume the parameters of that sport to be.

We need to look, dance, move, even dress a certain way. Sexy, but not slutty. Sporty, but not graceless. Strong, but not masculine. Thin, but you better be able to fill out that sports bra.

Maybe I’m thinking specifically of Tumblr here, but a lot of what we’re comparing ourselves to when we look at pole-related social media is the streamlined, aspirational stuff. And, yeah, aspirations are great. But not when they start feeling like they’re backing you into a corner. A corner where you’re scared to share anything that doesn’t conform to what’s already being shared. Which sort of defeats the purpose of putting new stuff out there, no?

So to that, I say, Balls.

BALLS.

Because beyond “balls,” I don’t really have an answer. I feel the pressure too. I love pole. But I can’t deny that the intense drive behind mastering it is rooted in not quite feeling good enough at it.

Maybe that’s okay.

And maybe it’s also okay to post a few pictures on the WAY to “good enough.” It might dial down the pressure on all of us.

LOVE and happy twirls,

Cathy

OOOOOOH jesus.

So I read a piece today about this woman who bemoaned her young daughter’s future struggle with body issues, including a recent trend among youngins’ to seek the elusive thigh gap.

This bitch wrote like 3,000 words about why thigh gap shouldn’t be a thing.

Which I respect, but sometimes, paying attention to something retarded makes it more of a thing than it really deserves to be.

So, I did something I really wish I didn’t do: I got curious and Googled “Thigh Gap.”

You guys, there are entire Tumblrs dedicated to stick-ass legs. And e-How guides to achieving them. And blogs where girls cry over NOT having stick ass legs, and describe their self loathing and desire to kill themselves over it.

And all I can think is… really??????? DOES ANYBODY REALLY CARE ABOUT THE SPACE BETWEEN LEGS THIS SO MUCH?

Ladies, your bodies are not decorative. Do not seek out a 10-step plan to starve down parts of your body for a “desired look” (apparently a 1-inch gap is serviceable but a 2-inches is really the money); do not stare longingly at 14 year old Hungarian supermodels, hating your life because you are not gaunt Euro jail bait. Do not avoid physical activity because strong quads will ruin your aesthetic (which I can only assume is “scarecrow” or “baby horse).” These are all things that will ruin your happiness and squander your happy young time. Come on. Don’t do that.

Also, nobody’s looking at your goddamned legs, unless you are in Mean Girls, in which case, make your priority finding some new friends. And hobbies. Because “achieving thigh gap” is not going to be a thing you look back on fondly while reflecting on your life. Like, “God, I’m so glad that when I was 16 I ate carrot sticks for 2 weeks and FINALLY got that thigh gap going.” <====thing you will never think on your death bed.

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE.

Okay, okay, I feel better now. Here’s a picture of me hanging by my legs and holding a bottle of Dry Hands for no reason. Because recliners are probably impossible with out that wonderful, squishy inner thigh fat. So let’s celebrate it a little, okay? It’s God-given, and you can hang upside down by it. Boss.

Happy twirls! (And squats… and eating)

Cathy