I started doing pole-dancing classes earlier in the year and discovered I had a secret knack for exotic dancing. I really wanted to keep up the classes, but at $220 a term, they were too expensive (I had received a term of classes for Christmas). I also wanted to get a pole installed in my house, so I asked the teacher how much they cost (thinking it might be cheaper to get a pole at home and not pay for classes anymore).
When she told me how expensive they were, I had to tell her I couldn’t afford it. When she asked if I was going to continue the classes after the first term was up, I told her I’d love to, but as an at-home mum, with just my husband’s income and a decent mortgage, there was no way I could pay for next term. She said to me, “Too bad you’re not a dancer, you’d make heaps with that style of yours.” She giggled at the thought of her student becoming a real-life dancer, and I laughed along with her.
A few days later I realised her comment was still with me. There were so many things I wanted that I had gone without in the past year since I had given up working. On the whole I was happy, I’d never trade time with my son for the things money could buy, so going back to work wasn’t going to happen. But sometimes I had to admit going without new clothes and fancy dinners, and buying cheap steaks at the supermarket really got to me. My salary had been a good one, on my husband and my combined incomes we had had a pretty great lifestyle, so I knew what I was missing.
At the next class, I took my teacher aside and asked if she really thought I could make it as a pole dancer. She laughed at first, then when she realised I was serious she said, “Sure, you’d need more advanced moves, but you could easily pick them up.” She told me to stay after class. We talked about it and she agreed to teach me the advanced stuff during the week.
With my son asleep in his portacot in the spare room at the studio, my teacher taught me the fine art of professional pole dancing. Within a couple of weeks I had enough moves to audition at a club. While I wasn’t going to be a headliner with my inexperience — make no mistake, these girls are very talented and hard working — I was given a timeslot. Now to break it to my husband.
My husband had been so pleased that I’d taken up something by myself since having the baby, he’d encouraged me to get out and enjoy my hobby. I told him the classes were going so well that the teacher would take me on for free in exchange for teaching the beginners group. I also said I was meeting the girls from my group on Friday evenings for dinner, so that gave me three nights a week free to dance.
My husband doesn’t know about my new job — I make enough for the little extras I’ve done without for so long (how many men really know the cost of anything?) and miss no time with my son as he is asleep at home whenever I’m working. Plus I love what I do, and I’m really good at it. Fingers crossed I’ll never run into my husband at my club!
Image: Getty / Picture posed by models
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