Oh Dear. Utah. Scary. brain dump

This past September was the 15th anniversary of coming back from Utah.  This has been the first year that I have not spent the day curled up in a fetal position waiting for the day to pass.  I actually only realized the date when I had yet another one of my nightmares about Utah.  Yes, I still have them with some regularity.

This morning, I looked at Princess and almost died. She is growing- up, she is not my little girl who chases geese and loves to swing at the park. It dawned on me, when I was her age I was already in the midst of an eating disorder.  A diagnosable eating disorder.

She is such an amazing person, smart, caring, strong, thoughtful, and kind.  I never want her to hurt like that.  I never want her to feel like she is not not enough just as she is.  She is special and unique and fantastic.  How can I protect her from this?  How can I keep her safe from that trip in a fun-house mirror. 

Go back to the pole- back to the basics

I had a really bad experience at pole a while ago- it drastically turned me off.  It was not an injury or anything, I just was taken by surprise and my feelings really hurt.  It hurt me so deeply for a while I stopped going to pole for a few weeks.  I felt like the joy had been ripped away from me.

This is not nearly as flat as I want it to be-- but I need to get back into shape.

Thankfully- a great gym offered me a job teaching classes there and allowed me to come and practice there.

I got back on the pole and at first was really grumpy.  I had been away for a bit, had a major surgery, and then a minor surgery.   I hadn't fully come back from the first surgery and with all the time away I was not as strong as usual and certain tricks (some of my favorites) were not working for me.  That is maddening. Absolutely maddening.

But a great person, a great woman, a great poler- talked to me and in the end I had a great time again.  My tricks aren't back yet but soon.  

Share the love

I have recently had to opportunity through some truly amazing women to share my love of pole with others and hopefully help them to love it as much as I do.

Pole has helped me through some of the worst times in my life and I am honored to share it with others.  I truly do not know if I would have made it through intact with out my pole family.

I seriously want to jump up and down with giddiness and joy. 

What do I want pole students to get out of it?

Everyone is different, and that is awesome.  Each of us moves our bodies differently and it is amazing, this is where the artistry of dance comes in.  We could all be given four tricks to do and the same music to do them too and yet all look totally different.

Pole is a sport- but it is also an art. If you aren't into the acrobatic tricks-- that's fine there are endless things you can do.  Walking can be amazing to watch- its all about artistry. 

You may not get every trick.  This is fine!! A lot of us have tricks we don't do for a lot of reasons. It doesn't make you less than anyone- it makes you--- you.

Love yourself and your body. Your body is part of you--- it is not *you*.  Your body doesn't define you.  I never got this until I was really involved with this physical sport-- ironic huh?

Be kind. Not everyone responds to tough love. I don't. I will get defensive and put up walls to keep people out. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

Pole Dance Free Style Memory Loss

The basic format of our pole classes is: meditation, workout, trick time, dance time.  Sometimes there is a moving meditation in there too but that depends.

I get all happy for dance time and then it comes an I'll start dancing and my mind will blank out. Fairy climb I get to the top of the pole and well then what? What can I do from there?  Sitting here at the table thinking about it I can list off somethings but in the moment I blank- test anxiety pole dance style.

First, getting up high kind a freaks me out.  I am short- and mildly klutzy (okay-- moderately)- staying close to the ground is to my benefit- I have a shorter distance to fall.

I can do some pretty fun tricks and I am really proud of them, however, incorporating them into a dance and staying fluid escapes me.  Figuring out what to do escapes me.

Sometimes I wish I could have someone just calling out trick names and I could incorporate them because sometimes I can only remember like two things to do.

Everything is an emergency

I hear desperate calls of "Mama!" "Mama!" with a tone to them that make it seem like the cat is on fire or something.  It is usually something much more benign. Like needing a drink.

Peas is dramatic. She is.  She is also 4.  I have to really strive to remember that in her world the things she needs are an emergency.

It is not always easy.  I get annoyed.  But usually once she knows I am paying attention the desperate please of 'Mama!!!' calm down a little.  Really though don't we all want acknowledgement- for someone to pay attention to us?  Once we feel heard things are much better- its that way for Peas also, I guess.

Want to make a kid feel dumb?

Send them to school.

***This is a rant-ish post of my own personal experience as a parent within the public school system with very sensitive (and smart kids)***

I am sure it also clearly exposes some of my own insecurities and issues with school as well.

Princess is in 3rd grade.  Everyday after school there are tears.  Math is confusing her- I'll try and explain it a different way- a way that makes sense in my head, because, ya know maybe we think similarly and all--- but then she flips because her teacher said for her to do it differently and she.must.do.as.the.teacher.says. <<>>>

Somehow we make it through the the math, science, and on to English- grammar specifically.  As a product of Catholic schools I can diagram a sentence and parse a noun like no one's business.  But there are more tears. 

Finally, in the morning she comes down the stairs and tells me she wishes she were like some other kid in school who is the smartest.  It is hard to explain to an 8 year old that the other kid may appear to be really good at something, s/he may have difficulty but hiding it, maybe s/he has struggles in other parts of his or her life. 

More importantly- she is great just the way she is.  Just how she is.  So math is hard- that is only this specific math- arithmetic for me sucks- but I can do differential equations and higher order math without a problem.  She is one of the most caring and sweet girls I know.  She is amazing, smart, and wonderful.

It makes me so sad to have to build her up every morning for her to come home so sad.  It makes me so sad for her to compare herself to other kids- they are not the same- they are individuals. 

Honestly, I did the same- and I still do it-- compare myself to others- myself always coming up short.  I do not want her to repeat that pattern.