Pole Dancing Soul
By Lucinda Bunn
I don’t know what made me like this, but at some point, I became that person. The one who, in a certain setting, will open their mouth and out will come everything that I really didn’t want to say.
Often when I do, I’m thankful for it.
Always when I do, it feels as though I’ve taken off all of my clothes. The ones on the inside that cover up who I really am. I spit out my socks, barf up my bra, purge my pjs, and there I stand in a naked soul.
I get praise for undressing from the inside out. “You said what I couldn’t.” “You inspire me.” “Your honesty is refreshing.” “You’re so brave.” “If anyone can get through this, you can.”
I have to say though, when I don’t feel strong and brave and I didn’t last night and I haven’t on many occasions, it’s hard. That’s when I need to be inspired by someone who’s strong and brave or share with someone who will just listen.
Sometimes it ends up that I'm that person, I guess because that's how it's supposed to be. I just find it complicated to decide when it's okay to ask for help or support and when it's my job to give it to myself.
See? There I go again. Spitting out a perfectly good shirt.
I don’t know that I asked to be this person, but it’s the one I am, so I might as well be it.
For all of the ease of what I have been able to speak, the hardest things to say are these words. “This s***'s hard.” “I need help.” “I don't know what to do.” “I feel lost.” “I’m afraid.”
Because when I feel these things and say these words in front of people, it's often a barrage of input and feedback and that's just not helpful sometimes.
If I don’t say these last truths when they are there, they go to town, playing dress up on my soul, putting me in tight shoes, those panty hose that the crotch never goes all the way up on and a sexy black turtleneck straitjacket.
So there. I said it. And now, maybe I'll swallow easier today. And breathe even more so. I'm really good at the breathing part. I'm pretty proud of it. So far, I've got a 100% success rate there.
Oh, and one last thing. “F**k pantyhose.”