Yesterday I found a pole studio right next to my neighborhood…I went …I sat in a room with girls half my age and younger I was the old betty.
I was also the most flexible student…( teacher was insane) and I was asked as she pulled my arms toward her crotch as I was in a straddle…”How old are you” I pulled up slapped her hands aways and said…”IN AMERCIA…we don’t ask that” and then I laughed at the craziness the racism of that comment and answered – “How old do I look”. She was honest and said 40…I told her “45”
I was home in my little pole world and I left after that stretch class and returned two hours later and took a pole class..learned how to climb better and prettier..I looked at al their nails so long and pretty and I straddled my legs on the pole and let myself fall back and I glimpsed at my theighs…filled with wrinkles and I I thought to myself…my dad was right…my legs will look like my grandmothers one day but then I instantly leveled up that thorugh with HOW many women my age age doing this today…and If they are I am among them..I purchased an unlimited month and I added it to my list and I made it my priority- to return home-
Something about climbing a pole…swinging on a pole…being in the room with other women who also respect the pole and I am on the flip side ..flipping upside down in hope that maybe this pole will return to the play and I will have it as a center piece..a prop a thing I work with a grounding tool…my pole
Jewbana will reclaim her POLE.
S
