Dance, Artform, Sport: A Brief History of Pole Dancing and How it Helped My Mental Health

By Mia Hassall

 

A year ago, I had a mental breakdown. I did not have it in me to even pretend that I was okay. Due to intense stress, I experienced regular panic attacks, sleepless nights and frequent episodes of DPDR. I was in such a bad place mentally that it impacted my abilities to function physically, and I could feel myself slowly slipping into a depression. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that I had hit rock bottom.

 

I began pole dancing because I wanted something that was mine, something I could be truly passionate about. I have a burning desire to express myself, and without some form of creative outlet to channel my tangled emotions into, I feel like a garden during autumn time, a tragic concoction of uncontrollable disarray and wilting. A mechanism for taking control of both my mental and physical health, it is something that motivates me to keep going when I don’t quite feel like getting out of bed in the morning.

 

Despite the joy that it brings, in the year I’ve been pole dancing I have noticed that I constantly have to defend myself against harsh stereotypes, over-sexualisation, misjudgement and underestimation.

 

One time, a male friend of the family who overheard me talking to a family member about my plans to install a pole in my bedroom thought it was a great idea to crudely respond with, ‘I’ll sit and watch when you practice.’ He followed this up with questions about whether I practice alone or with other female friends. I was seventeen at the time; he was in his thirties.

 

When expressing my disgust to my mother later that day, her response was that telling people I pole dance could ‘give the wrong impression’. Men who assume they have the right to assert their vulgar, tasteless and offensive thoughts and opinions on any woman are disgusting. Add the fact that the woman he is sexualising is actually an underage girl and that the girl was made to feel like it was her fault, and it’s enough to make your stomach turn.

 

Curious, I made a post on Facebook asking my fellow pole classmates if they had ever experienced similar situations. I received a variety of feedback, and the similarity in their accounts is unsettling. Comments like ‘you can dance on my pole’, ‘you must be good in bed, that flexibility!’, and ‘I couldn’t date a pole dancer’ are only a fraction of the remarks we have to put up with. Over time you learn to just brush them aside; otherwise you will quickly find yourself sapped of confidence, self-esteem and emotional energy.

 

Reactions when revealing that you are a pole dancer vary. There are people who fully respect and genuinely support you in your endeavours and others who outright judge and reject you based solely on this one fact. Then, there’s everyone in between. It’s difficult to decipher when people are hiding their disgust underneath a mask of friendliness or if people who aren’t outwardly disparaging you simply have a false understanding of what pole dancing is.

 

If you are someone who is wondering what it is, let me enlighten you.

 

Pole dancing has an interesting history and dates all the way back to the 12th century, when it was commonly known as Mallakhamb, a traditional Indian sport that uses a wooden pole to perform acrobatic and yoga-inspired tricks. In China, dancers would climb poles up to twenty feet high and often jump between two poles standing next to each other.

 

Later, pole dancing became synonymous with travelling sideshows in Egypt and the USA in the late 19th to early 20th century and eventually made a natural leap from the circus tent to the bars. It was introduced to strip clubs as a form of eroticism in the 1980s but was also becoming recognised as a fitness activity. In the early 2000s, people started to accept pole fitness for what it was: an extremely difficult and rewarding sport. Despite this, pole dancing was only officially recognised as a sport in 2020, though it is predicted to become an Olympic sport by 2024. And rightly so!

 

How is pole dancing any different to Ariel, Hoop, or Artistic Gymnastics? Is it because pole dancing is over-sexualised due to having to wear little clothing whilst on the pole? Well, the reason for that is because it’s almost impossible to actually stay on a chrome pole whilst clothed. Skin acts as a grip, and the more skin you have out, the more stability you have to perform cool tricks.

 

The Metal Maidens, who I am closely associated with, are an alternative dance group that aim to counteract sexist stereotypes, especially within the alt community. They are a group of determined, skilful and talented individuals. I went to a gig recently where they supported a group of local metal bands. I was impressed at how well choreographed the routines were and the atmosphere they created whilst performing. You can imagine the look on my face when the only thing the singer of the supporting band had to say about them was ‘weren’t they sexy!’.

 

According to the ‘Man’s Guide to Spotting Stereotypical Female Archetypes’, because I’m a pole dancer with ‘daddy-issues’, then I must lack self-respect, be into BDSM and am willing to jump into bed with anyone who expresses they have a fishnet stocking fetish. A sexual misfit to fulfil any man’s wildest fantasies!

 

My presentation, music taste, mental state and preferred hobbies say absolutely nothing about my character or intelligence. People who pole dance are individual, complex beings with multifaceted personalities, and to reduce anyone to one single tired trope is simply out of order. It goes without saying that even if someone chooses to identify solely with one aesthetic or persona, we have absolutely no right to place our judgements on them.

 

The same thing applies to people who could be classed as the stereotypical embodiment of how one may perceive a pole dancer. Maybe the reason why some women dance in underwear and heels is that they feel empowered and seductive, so what?

 

On the Facebook post I made, I also asked my pole classmates why they started pole dancing and what it means to them personally. A lot of the women’s stories emerge from some sort of tower or death tarot card moment, where they were also looking for something to pull them through the hard times. Though of course, there are plenty of other reasons why someone may feel inspired to take up pole dancing due to being such a versatile activity.

 

Pole dancing is for people of all ages, sizes, genders, races and sexualities. When I offer my friends and family to try out a pole class, they instinctively say no, assuming that they would stick out like a sore thumb and embarrass themselves. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Believe me when I say the pole classes that I’ve been to have been incredibly diverse. I have made friends with and met some of the most amazing people from the pole dancing community; each is inspiring in their own way.

 

It takes a lot of practice, discipline and dedication to become good, building not only strength and endurance but self-confidence and self-belief. I love the look on my classmates’ faces when they decide to attempt a move that they have never done before and come away feeling proud that they pushed themselves, despite common fears of failure and embarrassment. You can see the change happening, and it’s beautiful.

 

In no way does this disregard anything that I have said, but pole dancing is not the reason I maintain a feeling of self-worth and self-acceptance. I can’t hold a candle to this one aspect of my life and claim it’s the reason I’m still breathing because it’s not, and I can’t promise that all your problems will disappear should you choose to take up this magnificent sport.

 

Healing and growth are not linear, my mental health fluctuates like most people, and the reason I am even in a place to write this article and share my fine slither of wisdom on this topic is because of me, and me only. Pole dancing is a tool. It’s a mechanism I use to stay in tune with myself. A grounding technique.

 

It doesn’t matter that I take breaks that last weeks, months even, to rest and reevaluate what it is that I’m doing here. It doesn’t matter that it’s taken me almost three months to write this article. Life can get in the way of our growth and maintenance sometimes, it’s important to remember to be kind to your mind and body and allow yourself to simply exist without the constant need to be achieving something.

 

I have the greatest respect for this sport and the people that take part in it, and I will use it to remind myself to slow down, be in the present moment and flourish in my own company. I will continue to pursue pole dancing without apologising or censoring myself because I have finally found something I’m really fucking good at – and I don’t plan on keeping it a secret.

Previous
Previous

‘I Began to Question My Sanity’: Dealing with Abusive Relationships and the Aftermath of Trauma

Next
Next

Same Face, Different Brain: Learning to Live with Chronic Pain and Ableism After a Brain Injury