7.4
May 19, 2020

Listen Up, Boys: A Pole Dancer’s Lesson on Nudity & Sexuality.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Julia (@julika.illustration) on

Online dating is what I have been playing with lately. 

Well, only somewhat. I don’t spend more than a few days in there before I delete the apps. I find online dating quite dull at times.

When I say playing, I am not making fun of people. It’s more that I am just curious to see how I have changed over the last few years. It’s fun to see what type of men I find attractive now, what kind of conversations I can look forward to, and the quality of these virtual conversations.

To me, it is a process of self-discovery and measuring my internal progress and transformation. It’s a way of becoming aware of my thoughts and beliefs. It’s also a way of checking to see if there are still any attachments to my old habits regarding connections, men, and dating in general.

What I have noticed this time around is that I ask essential questions in the first few minutes of conversation, and I can now understand whether it will lead anywhere.

I can spot the “player” type, right away. The ones who are bored and want to pass the time. The ones who are married and pretend to be divorced because they’re tired of their wives. 

I can now tell if there is genuineness in the person and a chance for more profound talks (or at least something other than blow jobs). Many men use dating sites like porn sites; it’s hilarious and sad at the same time.

I don’t give out my number until I’ve given myself enough time to understand if the other person deserves it. I also don’t share my social media profiles with them until I have enough evidence that they are worthy. 

I do not waste more than a few minutes with awkward conversation. If the talk does not flow or they ask me stupid questions like “When was the last time you were with a man?” without even saying hi first, I am out. 

In other words, I am content on my own and know how much I have changed. I am proud of myself.

Recently, I had a conversation with a man in his middle 40s. He was well educated and all that. He had a serious profile and way of representing himself. I said to myself, “Finally, someone worth chitchatting with.”

He seemed to be interested in me, but the conversation went like this:

Him: “What do you do for a living?”

Me (in total honesty): “I pole dance. Exotic pole dancing is my niche and passion. I am also a fitness trainer, and I write as well…”

Him: “So, a stripper.”

I asked him why he thought that pole dancing is only about strippers. Aren’t strippers human beings with a soul that needs to be respected like everyone else?

This so-called “man” who was attempting to get to know me was puzzled. Absolutely confused.

I quickly realized it’s not my mission to educate grown-ass men what pole dancing is all about. Or that not all pole dancers work as strippers in night clubs (though that’s a personal choice that needs to be respected).

If I were on the opposite side and met a stripper, I would be curious enough (whether male or female) to have a deep conversation about their needs or desires to be doing that kind of job. I would be amazed and want to listen to their life story. Even if it shattered my entire belief system, I would let it happen. 

The truth is that it’s not my issue if some men think of me as a stripper just because I am passionate about pole dancing. It is their own ignorance. They are living in the world, not doing their research, and seeing women as flesh. I don’t even want to be around those kinds of men. 

I am not their mom, and I am not here to educate them—especially if they don’t ask questions and still make assumptions. Their fixed beliefs and ideas of reality have nothing to do with me.

I let them go, and I chase my dreams anyways.

I will never accept a man in my space, let alone in my bed, who is not mature, and emotionally intelligent. I want someone open and curious. Someone who wants to figure out all the little and big details about me—someone who honors others no matter how different they might be from him. And someone who adores every inch of my mind and my skin equally. 

I need a man who marvels at my wisdom and how my mind works behind the booty shorts and pole shoes. A man who finds my pole dancing breathtaking, but can see my magical mind and fall in love with all that is me. 

I need a man with integrity like myself—a man who is authentic and genuine to himself and his dreams and goals. 

I need a man who is open to navigate the world differently than in his past, full of awe and passion for everything this universe has to offer.

Nothing less than this will ever satisfy me because I am not the average kind of woman.

I have grown up (on my own) in so many ways and will not allow immature people in my space. People who don’t know who they are or what they are doing with their lives.

I can’t teach any man what women are made of. I cannot teach them that within every woman runs a floating river—not to be enjoyed as she happens to float in their direction.

I cannot teach any man that a strong woman is also enormously fragile and sensitive.

I cannot teach a man that the feminine is like waves of the ocean; she is a constant current, but still ever changing. She is always shapeshifting into higher levels of herself.

Men need to educate themselves. 

They need to be attentive to their partners. They need to listen more. They need to go out there and explore the world and see many different facets of feminine energy. They need to honor the feminine within themselves and get in touch with their soft side to understand women fully.

Most men want easy, quick, and ready.

Most men just want to f*ck, but when they find a woman like me who pole dances her heart out, they are intimidated or threatened.

They don’t stop and try to understand what they are doing or recognize that the women who love them (or whom they have an interest in) are not their moms. 

Men need to understand that women (or vice versa) are no one’s property. Women are not puppets or dolls. Women’s bodies are their own first.

If a wild and wise woman invites you inside her body, you need to show gratitude, respect, and passion for her. She has chosen you to penetrate her mind, body, and soul.

I know quite well that no matter who a woman is, her body deserves to be seen as a piece of art. She should be treated with respect, whether she chooses to be a dancer, pole dancer, ballerina, or nude model.

Most men need to learn that when they are seeing a woman’s nude body (partially or fully), it is simultaneously freeing for the woman. It makes them shine and rise beyond their normal levels of awareness.

I know this to be true for many women. It’s natural, it feeds something within us, and it satisfies our inner desires (not talking about masturbating only here).

It helps them connect with their bodies and heal ancient wounds of trauma, sexual abuse, and more.

Why do we still, as a society, see a woman’s nude body as something sinful, shameful, dirty, or not appropriate? 

Why are we so quick to label women who ooze sexual energy? Did we ever stop to consider that it was pleasant and fulfilling for them? 

I am making myself and my dreams the center of my world. It has shifted my entire life. I still love love. I still crave to have a man by my side, but I am happy being alone. Chasing my dreams and working hard on my goals is what makes me the happiest. And I want to have a man by my side who is doing the same in their lives.

My inner being is creative; I am continually birthing new worlds with my ideas, and I love the process. So, I don’t need a man to make me happy. He will add to my existing happiness and excitement for life. 

My source of joy is within myself now.

I accept all parts of me and won’t allow any man or woman to disrespect me. And I certainly won’t take a lover who does not honor all parts of me. He must see nothing but magic and passion in my eyes.

Read 11 Comments and Reply
X

Read 11 comments and reply

Top Contributors Latest

Ilda Dashi  |  Contribution: 50,065

author: Ilda Dashi

Image: julika.illustration/Instagram

Image: Author's Own

Editor: Kate Force