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“That’s it, Amelia. Now lengthen your legs more. Cross your ankles and point your toes.” Fiona, the instructor of my class, directs me to move as I spin with both legs straight but crossed around the pole, one arm beneath me gripping the pole to keep me upright, and the other outstretched above my head as I spin. “Good. Now drop your head back and breathe.”
I follow her instructions, inhaling as my body struggles to stay in position, but in a good way, the way strength feels when you know it comes from within.
A few years ago, I was searching for something new and exciting to break up my monotonous life and fitness routine when Penelope, another part of our foursome, made a joke about learning how to do pole dancing like a stripper as a form of exercise. Much to her delight, I did my research and found that pole dancing is a great way to incorporate strength and cardio, so I signed up for classes and haven’t stopped going since. She loves reminding me that if my therapy gig ever fails, I could now strip as a backup. Not that I’d ever do that, but as I’ve worked through the class, I’ve actually gotten pretty good—and it’s made me feel more sexually confident. I guess it’s just nice to know I have options if the need arises.
“Excellent. You’re doing it. You're in Reverse Superman. Well done.” She slow claps as she walks around me, making pride swell in my chest as a few of the other girls join her in applause. “Now, dismount when you’re ready.” I slow myself down and gently release my body from the pole, finding my balance again as I stand upright on my feet, while still holding onto the pole just in case. “You did great, Amelia. I know we’ve been working on that move for a while and you nailed it.”
“Thank you. It felt amazing to finally perfect that one. I think I want to start trying the more advanced moves soon.”
Fiona smiles back at me. “I think you’re ready for that. That’s the point of pole. It’s not just about being sexy and stripping, even though a pleasant result from taking this class is that you could if you wanted to.” She winks at me. “It’s about making your body do things you never thought possible because you never really tried. Pushing through those doubts and fears, trusting the strength that we possess both mentally and physically is what makes this exercise so empowering.”
“I agree one-hundred percent.”
“We won’t see you on Wednesday, right?”
I shake my head while reaching down to fetch my water bottle and black-rimmed glasses from the floor, pushing them back up my nose. “No. I'll be returning from Hawaii the night before so I know I’ll be exhausted, but I’ll be back the week after.” I push my curly hair from my face with my towel as I wipe the sweat from my brow.
“Sounds good. Have a great time. I’m jealous. Maybe one of these days I’ll make it to Hawaii.”
“I’ve never been so I’m definitely looking forward to it.”
I gather my things and walk out to my car, still dressed in my tiny, black bike shorts and green, open-neck sweater over my sports bra that I wear during class. Driving home, I think about my checklist that I need to complete before I leave for Hawaii tomorrow and the load of laundry I want to make sure is finished. Our flight doesn’t leave until early in the afternoon, but I hate feeling stressed because something was left to the last minute, so making a list always helps me feel more at ease.
Cruising through my neighborhood, I soak in the family feel as I drive by houses that look similar to mine. When I decided to buy a house, I knew I wanted something I could see myself in long-term, somewhere I could raise children in the future, perhaps convince my future husband to move into one day, something that felt like the home I grew up in, full of warmth and comfort. I wanted someplace where I could build my own family like the one I grew up in.
Families stroll along the sidewalks, pushing babies in strollers or pulling children in wagons as my car whizzes past. A few are out for evening bike rides now that the sun has begun to set on this hot Southern California night, and it’s finally comfortable enough to escape the air conditioning in their houses. Others are headed toward the park on the corner, where the kids can burn off some of the energy they’ve been storing up all day inside.
But it’s not just their presence that has my chest feeling heavy, that familiar pain of longing resting there. It’s their faces—smiles, obvious laughter, love, and commitment so blatantly clear that it only reminds me I haven’t found my own family yet, let alone a husband.
Shaking my head, I bring myself back to the present, rerouting my mind to the tasks I must complete this evening. It’s what I do when I feel myself going back to that place of failure because I haven’t found my person yet—I focus on what’s in front of me now, what I have to look forward to, and remind myself that the best is yet to come.
It has to be.
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