Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

I settled in and waited for my classmates to arrive, trying not to feel too awkward in the growing silence. Nerves kept me from relaxing, but I could at least pretend to stretch.

The instructor messed with a couple of lamps and queued up a slow playlist as others dancers arrived. I was relieved to see that it was a mixed group of women with a range of body types.

“Hello, Athenas. I’m Meghan, and I’ll be your instructor for this series. Here at Athena Pole and Dance, we want you to find time for yourself and learn to sink into the movement. This class isn’t about anyone else, it’s about you. Everyone learns at their own pace. I started classes as a gift to myself. After three kids, I didn’t feel like my body was mine anymore. Dancing has helped me reconnect and have something that’s just for me.” She looked around the room, smiling softly. “Okay, it’s your turn. Why did you choose this class?”

I listened intently to the women around our circle. They were in class for a variety of reasons: to workout, to reconnect with their bodies, and because they loved to dance.

When it was my turn, I tried to speak confidently. “Hi, my name is Tamra. I’m here as a thirtieth birthday present to myself.”

Others wished me happy birthday, and the last few introduced themselves before Meghan moved into the warm-up.

“Softly close your eyes and let your body sink into the music,” Meghan said.

I tried to honor the eyes-closed advice but had to peek more than a few times to see what Meghan was doing. Especially when we got to the hip circles on the mat, I wanted to check out what we were supposed to look like. Meghan was on her back, knees bent, and elevated to a bridge before she thrust her hips in a torturously slow circle, letting her knees fall slightly open. Her motions fluid yet strong. Me? Not so much. Any dreams of being a secret siren died a swift death, but I kept trying, slowing my movements to match my breath.

After a few more minutes warming up on our mats, it was time to move to the poles. I wiped my damp hands down my thighs, visions of sweat causing me to slip to the ground instead of sliding smoothly echoing in my head. Meghan demonstrated a deceptively easy looking step-spin. Then she had us try it. There was a spate of giggling around the room as we found our groove, but I felt proud of my first attempt. With my inside arm high on the pole and my left wrapped across the front of my body gripping the pole, I stepped with my inside foot and swung my outside leg out and forward, toe pointed, as I spun around and met back with my first foot. I felt like a kid on a playground, so maybe my dream had been more in touch with reality than I thought. It was both fun and flirty.

Next, we moved on to the fireman spin. I watched Meghan grip a leg around the pole, tip her head to the side, then wind down, crossing her legs at the ankles, until she was crouched at the base of the pole and slithered up to standing. Again, wow. That was more complicated than what we’d just learned, but she broke it down for us.

Meghan moved around the room providing advice, and she stopped to watch me as I tried. My hands were sweaty against the pole, and I slid down much faster than expected, ending in an awkward tangle of feet. I held back my groan. Of course, my teacher had to see that attempt.

Meghan said, “Good. Wipe down your pole and hands and try again. Be sure to brace up top.”

Her encouragement helped me double down on my determination to do it right this time. I bit my lip and focused on getting a solid grip before trying again. With the extra traction from the wipe down, my spin was much slower, and I was able to get into the crouch at the end.

“Nice! I think you’ve got it.”

It didn’t feel nice yet, but Meghan’s generous praise encouraged me t0 keep practicing. Meghan let us practice for a few more minutes before asking us to move away from the poles to teach some basic dance choreography. She put on a sultry slow song, then stood facing the studio wall. As the beat kicked up, she slowly traced her hands up the wall. As they reached the apex, she drew a circle across the plaster with her right hand and turned to her back. She put a lot of heat into tracing her hands down her body, then circling her hips. I joined in the catcalls of encouragement from my classmates. Their lack of judgment and vocal support eased some of my nerves.

Meghan demonstrated a few additional moves that moved us close to the pole before transitioning into the first fireman spin, then had us practice.

The music swelled, and I breathed with the beat as I faced the studio wall. A fizz of excitement and trepidation at the thought of putting it all together and making the dance my own buzzed through me. Slowly, oh so slowly, I brought my right hand forward, feeling the bumpy drywall texture. I swayed my hips slightly and brought my left hand to trace up the wall with my right, until I felt like someone was tugging my wrists at the top. Leaving my left hand high, I traced a big circle with my right, down to my hip and under my left arm to move to my back. The bass thumped, and I kept my eyes softly closed and danced my legs slightly wider before sinking into my own hip circles. I gently shoved away from the wall and gave my best walk to my pole, stepping around catlike before launching into my fireman spin. I only tangled my feet