Ethics and values guide who we are. For the most part, I have a pretty strong set that I’ve developed over my lifetime through experience, education, and simply living. I’m sure they will continue to change some, but I feel pretty solid on the grounds I stand on. I am usually pretty good at working through ethical dilemmas when I consider what is important to me.
Lately, I’ve been struggling with one: body image.
If you don’t formally know me, here are some important things to know:
- As part of my day job, I provide education and resources on how media shapes our body image, societal pressure, stereotypes, etc. Along with that we also focus some on individual body image and self-care (we focus on the macro/society wide issues to really prevent body image problems at the core, rather than just focusing on the symptom).
- I’m a pretty unapologetic person for my own body. Sometimes my uterus tries to made me angry, but other than that, I’m happy.
- Caveat to that: while I haven’t been unhappy with my body in the traditional sense, I do experience on/off body dysphoria related to being genderqueer. What this means for me is that I have a emotionally-painful relationship with my chest. I wear breast binders when I’m not dancing, about half of the time. Pole and burlesque has actually encouraged me to (kind of) make peace with my breasts – by viewing them almost as a “prop” to my art. Anyway, that is another discussion for later.
- Working in a physical art form/exercise-based art, I hear a lot of body shaming, which I shut down. I am very careful not to say things or let things slide during class that could be body-shaming, and in fact aim to be extra-body-positive. My classes, and in fact the entire studio I primarily teach at, comes from a similar foundation.
So how is it that the last three months I can’t stand to look at myself?
It started with handsprings.
Handsprings are an advanced pole sport trick. It involves gripping the pole with both hands and bringing the rest of your body into an invert position, remaining with the hands as the only point-of-contact.
When I first saw a handspring, I thought “never going to happen”. But I said that about lots of things: shoulder mount, cross ankle release, brass monkey, ayesha, twisted ballerina… and those all happened. So, continuing my commitment to my passion, I kept working. I safely and properly worked on my shoulder engagement, body awareness, and physics of the move. If I was going to do it, I was going to do it right. Some days I would get painfully close, and others were just bad. I told myself to keep working on it.
Then, some of our studio dynamics began to change. Not in a bad way, just inevitable change. Over the last 6 months, students who I was able to teach as beginners have achieved their handsprings so quickly, and have joined the performance group I’m in. I was elated for them (I will always be their biggest cheerleader), but I also began to wonder what was wrong with me.
My two primary instructors are tall, skinny, long-legged ballerinas.
(nothing wrong with that, just observing that they often teach moves in a way that makes sense for them, and we have completely opposite body types)
The students that are focused on in classes are often the tall, thinner ones.
All the people who have achieved these moves are taller and thinner than me.
At first, I rationalized it. OF COURSE it makes sense. More weight to throw in an upward trajectory. I’ll just keep working up the muscle to do it, as well as the mobility and flexibility of my joints so I can be more successful in other tricks.
And I did.
And then, I started feeling the fat rolls of my torso, the same glorious fat rolls that allow me to do cool side-grip tricks, bunching up and preventing my movements from going further. I feel them bunch up between my armpit and hip, sticky folds of skin and adipose tissue that I love, seemingly preventing my body from the crucial tuck motion that is part of this skill.
And then all I could see in my videos was the belly that I love, the belly that I proudly display when instructing my fantastic students, proclaiming that “fat saves lives!” because it helps us stay safe on the pole. I second-guess every video or photo I post, even if it is a gorgeous trick.
This is all I see.
This very feeling occasionally has kept me from attending the “advanced” class when I’ve felt especially chubby. Even though my peers absolutely don’t actively notice my body, I notice it. I notice more attention being given to the thin, more-quickly-successful people in the room. I often times get a new trick or skill in class and am super excited, but I don’t get the same individual praise that other students do. It is hard not to take that personally.
Now, I definitely still hate diet culture and refuse to subscribe to it. I’ve always been a pretty nutritious eater. I’ve tried to improve over the last 6 months, although now I wonder if I’m putting myself in a disordered eating pattern; but I don’t think I’m there yet.
I don’t know the solution yet. Other than feeling like it sets me back among my peers in the studio, I still love my body. How can I want it to change at the same time I love it?
Occasionally, another thought also pops into my head. If I do become thinner, will my students not see me as approachable? Will they not feel as comfortable as they do with slightly-thicker-than-other-instructors me? Will they feel judged? Will they feel that they can be as successful?
For now, that’s where it ends. We will see where it goes.
Reminders:
- What works for one student may not work for another. Avoid using terms like “this way is easier” or generalizations. I often say “this method works best for me and my body, some variations you may prefer are…” when discussing different tricks and inverts.
- Give equal attention to each student and give them individual guidance
- Understand the physics and physical needs of the trick, and explain how the dynamics of the trick work. Don’t simply show a trick, provide a vague description, and expect students to do it.
Loves to you all, stay tuned.
PS: Even with my glorious rolls, I can do cool stuff.
kate e gaga 