The Word for Today – Superman

In my blog meanderings and reflections on what I am doing with this page I came across Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. I had been reflecting that I need to get a routine when it comes to my blog and maybe a challenge that requires a daily post (however short) may do the trick. A to Z seemed like a good option but I decided it wasn’t for me. Then my friend Pisshead inspired me with a text related to a home haircut and a misplaced clipper head. Don’t stress he is in one piece but his hair is much shorter than originally intended and he has something to tease his wife about for a little while!

So the plan is to post something every day, maybe it will be sexy, maybe it won’t, inspired by a word of the day. Let’s see how it goes. The word for today is – Superman. The name of a pole move that I am currently working on. It is meant to look something like this

I did manage something resembling that but didn’t hold it for very long because in getting into position I did this

Yes it hurt. Not as much as the bruise suggests but enough that I didn’t want to do it again.

Until next week.


I see this image frequently during warm up at pole. For quite some time I have wanted to capture it. But one of the problems with mirror shots is getting the angle right and eliminating the reflection of the phone / camera in the shot. Additionally, as you can imagine, a pole dance studio is full of people who also get captured in the shot. This is not ideal so careful timing, angles and cropping are required. I took the opportunity recently to enlist The Unicorn to help me. Our instructor was intrigued by our antics. Not surprisingly we couldn’t keep what we were doing to ourselves and also, probably not surprisingly there was a series of other students doing the same thing! Booty shorts are all about ass and this position makes all asses look good!

Sinful Sunday

Me and My Pole

I had my first pole dance lesson in 2009. It was on the balcony of an inner city apartment of a woman who went on to open one of the first studios dedicated to this sport in Brisbane. At that time the industry was in it’s infancy and this particular studio was very closely linked to the stripper industry. Many of the instructors worked in nearby strip clubs and the studio frequently did promos in these clubs. 

Almost twelve years later I am still on a pole. In all honesty I should be an instructor myself. I should really be amazing but I am still rated as a beginner. Why? 

So many reasons. Many of them linked to choices I made. Not practicing enough because I didn’t know exactly WHAT to practice. Getting frustrated because I couldn’t do several key moves that most people master relatively early in their journey. Being loyal to studios and teachers that I had outgrown or who were simply not teaching in a way that worked for me. I can honestly say that I have regressed a lot in the last five years. Or at the least stayed stagnant. Two years ago I was safely cocooned in a studio that made me feel good about my body and taught me a lot about dance and flaunting myself. Sadly it closed and I was left at a loose end. I contemplated many things and wondered if this was time to kiss my pole goodbye. 

But I couldn’t kick the habit. I found a studio close to my house and I enrolled. I deliberately didn’t tell them my entire history. Every now and then they can see I have done something and I guess they know I am on a journey. I have deliberately started at the beginning so that I can get rid of some bad habits. It has been productive although sometimes a little frustrating. What is really refreshing is being supported but also given challenges. The difference between this studio and my previous studios is amazing. I love the structure and the way moves are broken down. I love the way success is celebrated. I also love that for the first time I am being forced to do drills and train muscles. Instead of being given vague instructions like “make sure your core is turned on” For the first time I actually know where my core is and how to turn it on properly. I can feel when I am using it. 

I don’t consider myself to be completely crazy about pole dance. For me it is more of a slow burn. I think if I had found this space when I started this journey I would be in a very different place right now. But that is OK. My journey is my journey. One of my greatest failings is that I constantly compare myself to others in many different ways and aspects of my life. As a teacher, as a mother, as a blogger, as a wife and as a pole dancer. As a pole dancer I have had to really change my mindset and stop comparing myself to other women around me. We are on a journey but it is OUR journey. It is OUR path that we follow. Some of us walk along a highway that leads us straight to excellence at high speed. Some, like me, get distracted by little side roads and twisting paths. Neither path is better than the other it is just our path. 

This lesson is something that can be transferred to other parts of my life. Teachers are encouraged to engage in “reflective practice” What this means is to reflect on lessons we deliver and assess how we could improve things. Especially when the shit hits the fan. Which happens, even to the best of us. This concept is great but it can be a slippery slope. It can easily go from objective thoughts to beating yourself up. Watching other teachers work is a great way to learn. But it is easy to fall into the trap of feeling inferior and as if you will never be good enough. The lesson I learned at my pole, that my journey is MINE, serves me well here. I am a good teacher. My students do appreciate me. I am valued. 

Likewise remembering that my journey is valid and not to be compared to others can be applied to my writing. I came back from our voyage thinking I would be all over this writing gig. Then I got put in Twitter jail and my traffic faltered. Getting back to mainstream life has taken a lot more adjustment than I expected. It would be easy to throw my hands in the air and give up because my blog isn’t as professional looking as others and I am not getting the feedback that I was. But again this is MY writing. My journey is not the same as everyone else’s. I am very unique and that is not a bad thing. 

So here I am on my journey. Not doing it the same as a lot of people. But it is mine and I have had a lot of experiences that others have not. So I am happy with my twisting, turning paths. They have led me to some very interesting people and some amazing memories.

Wicked Wednesday

Lily’s Awakening Part 4 – Unveiling

Lily checked the address for the third time. Yes, she was in the right place. It all seemed so surreal. The address Jenna had given her was in an industrial estate. The only thing that confirmed she was in the right place was a small sign in the window of one of the buildings. A classic silhouette of a woman striking a pose on a pole and the name “Scoundrels Dance Studio” A line of cars were parked in the surrounding area filling the carparking spaces of Motor Mechanics, Air-conditioning sales and other assorted businesses who, like most places, were closed on Saturday night.

The sliding door to the building opened and some women came out with robes over what Lily had to assume were their performance costumes. They seemed unconcerned about their unusual dress and stood around the entrance vaping. Other people arrived and made their way through the sliding door. Some of them seemed hesitant and unsure, the way Lily felt. It gave her comfort to know she was not the only one feeling awkward. Taking a deep breath she sent a quick text to Jenna before making her way across the street.

Jenna greeted her at the door, dressed in tiny shorts and a large t-shirt. Her make up was unlike anything Lily had ever seen. She seemed so exotic it was almost impossible to recognise her.

“Come in!” Jenna hugged Lily. Her eyes were glittering with excitement. Lily’s fears were slowly being replaced by awe at the environment she found herself in. It was like a strange mix of strip club combined with dance school recital. Student performers, like Jenna, made up and dressed in robes or oversized shirts like Jenna escorted their supporters to seats. Lily was surprised at the variety of supporters, boyfriends, mothers, sisters, friends young and old, it was an eclectic mix.

The show itself passed by in a blur of sparkly costumes female strength and athleticism. Lily was astounded by the way Jenna seemed to effortlessly hoist herself around and still look sexy at the same time. In between performances on the poles other women displayed their burlesque skills. Lily thought that burlesque was something that belonged in the speakeasies of the wild west or in some exotic bar in Europe. She never expected to encounter it in an industrial building in the inner suburbs of Brisbane.

Another thing she didn’t expect was her fascination with the women performing. They were all regular women. Some were young, some, astoundingly, were well into their 50’s but most were like Lily, somewhere in the middle of their life journey. Their bodies told the stories of their lives, stretch marks from pregnancies, scars from surgeries, curves from enjoying dinner with friends, tattoos, pericings and smiles. Smiles of women who had found their tribe, women who were learning to love themselves exactly how and what they were.

But the thing that filled Lily’s senses was the boobs. So many different sizes and shapes, covered with elaborate bras, crop tops and sometimes pasties. They all jiggled and bounced and enticed. Never in her life had Lily seen so many breasts in the flesh. She suddenly realised that she loved them and a need to explore them took over. She thought back to the lesbian porn she had enjoyed. Was she becoming a lesbian?

Later she found herself in a bar with Jenna drinking shots. Jenna sat opposite her dressed in a tiny black dress. Lily found herself gazing at her friend’s breasts that seemed to be in danger of spilling out. Jenna didn’t seem to care. Lily had the very strong impression that, on one level, Jenna wanted to expose herself. She seemed to enjoy the attention she was attracting.

The same song that Jenna had performed her dance to earlier came on. Jenna grabbed Lily’s hand and led her on to the dance floor.

“I love this song so much,”

The alcohol she had consumed burned in Lily’s veins. Normally she would have shied away from this place, those drinks and dancing with a woman like Jenna, but tonight she couldn’t stop looking at her. Jenna pulled her close and wrapped her arms around Lily.

“Let’s give those boys something to look at,” she spoke into Lily’s ear above the music.

The feeling of Jenna’s body against hers and the scent of her jolted Lily straight in the groin. Hesitantly she wrapped her arms around Jenna pressing herself against the other woman. Jenna was already taller than Lily, but her shoes lifted her another six inches. Lily found herself staring almost straight at the breasts that had fascinated her since the first day they had met. In the dim light of the club she wasn’t sure but it seemed as if she could see Jenna’s nipples through the fabric of her dress. With a jolt she realised that Jenna wasn’t wearing a bra. The only thing between Jenna’s breast and Lily’s face was a thin piece of fabric.

Lily’s cunt throbbed. The music drove her to move rhythmically in time with Jenna. Before she realised Jenna’s hands were on her butt.

“You are so fucking hot,” Jenna’s voice penetrated her thoughts, “I really want to kiss that beautiful mouth,”

Lily didn’t give herself time to think, she simply tilted her head upwards to look into Jenna’s eyes. At that moment there was nothing else in her mind except the desire she could see burning in the other woman’s eyes.

The kiss was everything Lily’ had fantasised about and at the same time nothing like she expected. The softness and the gentle way they met struck a chord deep inside her. Lily tilted her hips harder against Jenna’s leg and she lifted her hands to twist her fingers into Jenna’s hair. She pressed her lips harder against the other woman opening her mouth to let Jenna’s tongue tentatively explore her mouth.

It seemed as if her cunt was on fire. Instead of satisfying her, kissing Jenna had only awakened a deep need for more. Lily desperately wanted to tear the dress away and touch Jenna’s body. She wanted to taste all of her and feel all of her nakedness. With a shock she realised that she wanted more than to explore breasts. She wanted to look at Jenna’s pussy and taste the sweet salt of her. She became aware of Jenna’s hand on her butt gripping her, pushing her against her leg. Like a child riding a pony, Lily ground down enjoying the stimulation. Jenna’s hand slid over Lily’s hips and pulled her dress up. Her fingers slid inside the leg of her panties.

Like a wanton slut Lily moved her leg to allow Jenna’s fingers to slide inside and stroke her pussy. Looking up she saw a strange glint in her friend’s eye.

“Someone is a little excited,” Jenna smiled. Her finger continued to stroke. Lily felt as if her legs were about to give way.

“I think we need to take this somewhere else,”

This post is part of Wicked Wednesday prompt #425. Click on the link below to see who else is being wicked this week.

Lily’s Awakening – Part 3, Epiphany

Lily’s relationship with Jenna is growing and taking Lily in a direction she never knew she needed.

“Oh my God!” Jenna placed her lunch on the table and flopped into a chair at the only table in the rooftop garden they both retreated to for lunch every day. “Rob is the most frustrating man to work with.”

Lily smiled knowingly and took a sip of her coffee.

“I mean what the fuck is it with asking you to do a task and then making you feel like an idiot because you haven’t done what he wanted and THEN taking your work and pretending it is his! Like WHAT the ACTUAL FUCK!” Jenna’s face was red with anger and her chest heaved as she sat scowling at her lunch.

“He has got me so worked up that I don’t even want my coffee,” Jenna thumped the mug onto the table.

“Yeh he does that.” Lily’s calm response hid a turmoil of her own. The fantasy of kissing Jenna would not leave her. Sitting opposite the raging woman added fuel to the fire. In her anger she seemed even more like a goddess, fierce, and glorious. Her breasts heaved under her shirt pulling apart the lapels feeding Lily’s obsession with seeing them naked.

“He isn’t even hot,” Jenna’s rage was passing and this last comment sounded like a childish tantrum.

“Oh my god imagine being his wife,” Lily giggled.

“I would rather not,” Jenna retorted, “Poor thing having to fuck someone with such a small cock.”

Lily was mildly shocked. After several weeks of sharing lunch breaks, she was still not entirely comfortable with Jenna’s bluntness. Apart from Jenna she had never thought about any of the people she worked with in a sexual way. The idea of imagining her colleagues naked was completely out of character for her. Talking about the size of a man’s penis so casually seemed weird.

An awkward silence descended. Lily had no idea how to respond with Jenna’s last statement. Jenna looked across the table at her.

“Don’t tell me you have never thought about the size of the partners’ junk,” a wry smile twisted at the corners of Jenna’s mouth.

“Of course not!” Lily could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Why not?” Jenna’s voice was matter of fact. “Do you think they pay you the same courtesy and not fantasise about your boobs?”

It was all she could do to not squirm in her seat thinking about the number of times she had fantasised about Jenna’s boobs. “No,” she managed to squeak.

“So why is it so bad that we think about the size of their junk then?” Jenna took a sip of her coffee and opened her lunch.

“I don’t know,” Lily couldn’t look Jenna in the eye. “I guess it is just something I was always taught that nice girls don’t do,”

There was a pause as Jenna studied Lily closely. Her face was unreadable, but she was thinking about something.

“And where do you think being a nice girl is going to get you in this world?” The challenge in the question was undeniable. “Nice girls always end up getting screwed over.”

Lily took a breath and considered what Jenna had just said. She had been raised by conservative, Christian parents to be a nice girl. To be demure and lady like. Her parents had succeeded. She had been a virgin when she met the man she married. They had the white picket fence dream and the nice girl seemed to be on top of things. Until she had come home one day to find another woman’s underwear on her bedroom floor.

In the wash up as her marriage disintegrated Lily was forced to face up to some harsh realities about the white picket fence dream. The harshest one was being told by her husband that the reason why he had cheated was that she was “so fucking boring, especially in bed.”

It had been five years since these events. She had worked hard to establish herself at her new job and build a home for herself and her sons. Sitting here opposite this self-assured, opinionated woman it hit her hard between the eyes. She WAS too nice, nice girls did get screwed over.

There was defeat in her voice as she replied, “I guess you are right.”

Jenna sat in silence, eating her lunch, Lily finished her coffee. Feelings tumbled chaotically through her as she lay back in her chair looking up at the sky. She thought she had come so far with repairing her life, but this conversation made her realise that she still had a long way to go.

“What do you think about boobs?” The question hit Lily between the eyes making her sit straight up to face Jenna.

“Sorry?” Lily didn’t think she had heard right.

“Do you like looking at naked women?” Lily couldn’t understand how the hell Jenna kept such a straight face when she talked about this stuff. She knew she couldn’t even begin to form the words in her mind let alone ask someone that kind of thing while keeping a straight face.

“Welllll. I’m not a lesbian if that is what you mean?” The memory of looking at the lesbian porn while she masturbated prodded at her conscience. Heat burned under her collar and up Lily’s neck.  

Jenna laughed. “Fuck you are such an innocent! It isn’t about falling in love with them, it is about appreciating their body. Looking at other people and appreciating their beauty in a non-sexual way is a great way to get more comfortable with your own body actually.”

The concept seemed contradictory. How could appreciating how attractive someone else is make you feel better about yourself? Lily wondered for a moment if hanging out with Jenna was a good idea. The comment made by Maddie on the day she first met Jenna popped into Lily’s mind. Overtaken by the craziness of this whole conversation Lily decided to put the rumour to bed.

“I know this is going to sound weird,” Lily started tentatively.

“In case you haven’t noticed weird is kinda my jam,” Jenna grinned.

“I heard that you are, or were, a pole dancer.” Lily couldn’t look Jenna in the eye. Gossiping was another thing she was taught nice girls don’t do.

There was a pause as Jenna studied Lily again, “I have never danced on a pole at a strip club for money,” The answer was guarded. “I do however dance on a pole at a studio with my friends and sometimes we give student performances that are only open to family and friends.”

Relief flooded through Lily. She knew Maddie was stirring up trouble! Then more questions tumbled in.


Jenna shrugged, “Why not? It is fun, a much better work out than the gym and the girls there don’t judge your arse if you aren’t as skinny and fit as them.”

“Ok,” Lily nodded as if she understood but she really didn’t.

“Would you like to come and watch sometime?” Jenna seemed a little nervous asking this question.

Lily hesitated. She was intrigued. She had also never been asked to socialise with the people she worked with. It was a big deal to her that a woman like Jenna, someone she admired for her don’t give a fuck attitude invited her into a private world that she kept hidden.

A feeling of defiance took over Lily. Of course she wanted to go and watch women dance on a pole. She absolutely wanted to step into Jenna’s world. Maybe she would learn to be fierce like her and drop the nice girl mentality.

“Where do I sign up?”

Become A Pole Dancer – Pole Dancing Classes Sydney – Yangon Air

This post is part of Wicked Wednesday #424. Click on the image below to see who else is being Wicked this week.

Flashback – The Power of Swinging

I posted recently about a nasty comment aimed at me when I dared have an opinion about the wearing of masks and Covid-19. During my mid year break I am spending time sorting through old posts from “Erotic Adventures” days. I came across this post which I think explains a lot about how I found my family when I started swinging.

There is this idea out there that is purported by uninformed people and also sadly by some people in the swinging scene that swinging is really geared for the man.   The general feeling is that most swinging couples are in the game so that the guy can get more sex. Of course these people must be right. Why would a woman want to be able to watch live sex, have multiple partners and express her sexuality freely? A woman is all about flowers, candles, romance, chick flicks and gossip magazines isn’t she?

All of those things are very nice and there are times when they are very important. But REALLY, if that is the best a woman can expect from her sex life, then no wonder there are so many disappointed women out there.  I used to think I was the only woman in the world who liked looking at pictures of naked women in men’s magazines. I most definitely am not. I used to think that only really bad, naughty girls liked to wear short skirts and CFM boots.  I’m not.

Guess what else? I am also not the only woman out there who has a detailed fantasy of being fucked by a bevy of strange men who I have never, will never have a conversation with, go to dinner with or see a movie with

Our culture really rams home the stereotype that women are passive with sex. They are not supposed to enjoy sex or use sex to enjoy themselves. Women who do are ‘not nice’ or worthy as a potential wife or mother. We are not always truly encouraged to know and understand our bodies (there is MUCH more to sex than a vagina and a clitoris) and be confident enough in ourselves to tell our partners what we like.

During the course of my adventures I have learned much about myself; what I like, what I don’t like, where the ‘on’ buttons are and also how to say, “Honey I’m sorry but that is not doing it for me. Why don’t you try this?”

I have learned that sucking cock is not an act of submission; rather it is a gift that is bestowed on someone of my choosing at a time and place of my choosing. And it is a massive turn-on. I have learned that the right clothing can be as much a turn on for me as it is for my viewers. And, there are not enough hot shoes in my wardrobe.

For me this journey has been one of the most liberating things in my life.  I was once one of those wives who thought that sex was a chore that women had to add to the already massive list of things to tick off in their day. But even after I learned that I could enjoy sex with my husband without it being a chore, I was still prudish and afraid that the things that appealed to me were ‘not normal’. I always liked slutty skirts and big boots but had nowhere to wear them.  I always liked flirting but was terrified of where it would lead.

Swinging was the icing on the cake for me. Finally I realised that my ideas were not weird, that there were other women out there who liked the same clothes that I did. I found places where I could wear them, and take them off if the mood took me. Gemma the swinging virgin would never have gotten up in front of a crowd of people and taken a spin on a pole. Now, after a year of lessons, Gemma often gives public and private performances when she feels like it.

This Gemma is confident in her sexuality and comfortable with her body. She knows she has a power in her and the thought turns her on massively.

The End of an Era

I have blogged about my pole dance hobby here and here. Pole dance has been part of my life for about nine years. I started out with my friend learning on a pole installed in s woman’s apartment. My friend dropped out after about eight weeks. I kept going for some reason. Eventually my instructor established a studio and I started classes there.

As I have explained before pole studios can be a little bit intimidating. Often they are filled with younger, thinner, more flexible women in tiny shorts. Sometimes the way classes are structured means that if you can’t nail a particular move you have to say good bye to classmates and new friendships as they graduate to new classes while you are stuck at the same level battling with your nemesis move.

My first instructor’s studio worked that way. Because I struggled to invert I was labelled a beginner and I watched younger women sail past me into intermediate classes to learn new and exciting things while I was stuck struggling to invert. Then I found my new studio. I was welcomed and nurtured and encouraged to do something I struggled with in a way that I had never been in my life ever. I was chided for speaking negatively to myself and I was convinced, for the first time, that my arse was a beautiful thing.

For about six years I have been existing in this bubble. I have fallen and terrified my teacher, I have had triumphs and almost successes. I have learned about dance and made some amazing friends. I have some amazing photos. Some that I can, and have shared here. Just for good measure here are some;

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. My teacher recently announced that she is taking a break from teaching and is closing her studio. This year has been hard for her and she is taking some well earned time to get her heart and her life in order. I am happy for her that she is taking time to recharge her battery because she needs a super strong one to keep shining out positivity and love every day the way she does.

For myself and many of her students we are all feeling a little orphaned and lost right now. I think I have shed more tears about this turn of events than almost anything else in my life. These days I seem to have a leak in my tear ducts. Which is not at all like me. But I digress.

Will I keep pole dancing? I don’t know. I am looking around for other classes and other studios. One of my teachers will perhaps be re-inventing herself and I look forward to that. One thing is for certain, all of those classes in that little studio will forever hold a place in my heart.

Sharing Secrets

dont speak

I have been in ‘the lifestyle’ for about 10 years now. I started sharing my experiences through writing in one form or another for about eight, maybe slightly longer. During that time I was always worried about being on the receiving end of some on-line attack  from people who had some kind of moral problem with my sexual choices.

Strangely I have never really had any vilification either on line or in person. Due to my profession I am quite careful about what I share about my extra-curricular activities. People are weird about how they expect teachers to behave in their private lives. That, and people find it incredibly had to understand the concept of minding their own business. Almost as hard as they find accepting that other people don’t make the same relationship choices as they do. Having said that I have always had a lurking doubt that my on-line exploits will one day draw the attention of a troll and I will become the victim of a narrow -minded keyboard warrior.

In the real face to face world I am quite careful about who I discuss my lifestyle with. As  a general rule I don’t share any details unless they have confirmed in some way that they are open to the idea of non-monogamy by expressing a desire to practice it or that they are trustworthy enough that they will not turn on me. I spend a bit of time in the world of pole dance and burlesque. I have been a practitioner of pole fitness for slightly less time than I have been a swinger. I have blogged about it here and I am sure some other posts as well. I have found myself becoming part of a pole studio community that has muddied the waters between my two worlds. It is a weird crossover. Of course you would expect this from people who want to take their clothes off in front of others or explore the conflict between body and gravity, skin and metal that is pole dancing. I have encountered several people who sit somewhere on the spectrum of alternative relationships and they have made me feel more comfortable about myself and my relationships. Those who are still chasing the monogamy dream are usually open minded enough to go with the flow.

In this place where I have made vanilla looking friendships with non-vanilla people and learned volumes about accepting my body as it is I did not expect to encounter judgement. But I did. In spades.

It came from a woman much younger than myself. Someone who has only been learning at this studio for a very short time. I don’t walk around at pole class openly talking about my lifestyle, most of the time. Sometimes though it slips out. When I am there I am as if I am at home. Other class members talk openly about their sex lives or attempts at one and so I feel comfortable to do so myself from time to time. So when I made a full disclosure during one class I was not prepared for a sneak attack. I guess when a member of the class took the opportunity to let me know how she felt, thankfully in private, I was taken by surprise.

I was too stunned to respond. I am still smarting from her words. In the style of a truly judgmental person she shot first and didn’t even bother to ask questions. She didn’t give me the opportunity to respond or to defend myself and quite honestly that was probably a good thing. I don’t think I would have said may constructive things in that moment. I was left to contemplate her comments. She accused me of judging her, not about her relationship choices but some behavior she had done. As is my nature I have spent the last few days considering her statements. I guess I am judgmental and now I find myself second guessing every negative comment. That is a process I will work through but the wash up of her comments on my lifestyle have led to a re-assessment of my approach.

I thought I had found a real world place where I could safely share some information about myself. It turns out I was wrong. This whole experience has left me thinking that the on-line confessional booth that is this blog is the only place I should share.


Although this does not follow the prompt for this week. I have included this post as part of  this week’s Wicked Wednesday group. The prompt for this week is “Astrology” make sure you head on over and see what other bloggers are writing about. 

TMI Tuesday – Important Questions 

1. If you are on facebook, when was the last time you had to “unfriend” someone and why?

I am notorious for avoiding conflict. So “unfriending” is not something I generally do. When I first read this question I could not think of the last time that I did unfriend someone. However as I was writing I remembered the last time was when Pet and I went our separate ways. It was not an acrimonious ‘break up’ by any stretch. – He decided we were done, I said O.K and that was it. I was a bit bummed by the turn of events but we are grown ups and i decided that pursuing reasons and ‘closure’ was not worth the pain. 

However I did decide that he didn’t need to be part of my Facebook world anymore. So he is no longer on my friends list. 

2. What are you addicted to?

Hard question. I guess it depends on how you define addiction. In terms of a weakness that I find hard to resist it would be shoes. My last pair are my new favourites;

Just for the record, The Fireman quite likes the new shoes as well. 

3. What are the first 3 things you do every morning?

Say good morning to Mr Jones, feed the bird, and get dressed. Not necessarily in that order. Often the bird comes first mainly because he is so loud.

He is partial to breakfast cereal but of course he doesn’t get to share my breakfast every day. 

4. How lucky are you and why?

Extremely lucky. 

  • I have a fantastic husband and kids
  • I live in a fantastic house and in a place with an almost perfect climate.
  • I am lucky enough to have my cake and eat it. 

5. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try?

I am often embarrassed about of lots of things that I do and say. I can’t think of a thing that I have always wanted to try that I am specifically embarrassed about. One of the key things that I often find myself apologising for is wanting to try badass pole moves that involve pain and using an ‘armpit grip’. Things that look like this;

Just for the record that move fucking hurts!!!! But I love it! 
Bonus: Are you proud of what you are doing?

Absolutely yes. I am proud of the way I do my job and I believe that I put in everything for my students and that they benefit from it. I am proud of what I do on my pole. Most of all I am proud of my marriage. Together we have built a great lifestyle and family. We have established complete and habitual honesty which has made our relationship work so well. 

Wicked Wednesday – Graveyard Visitors


This week’s prompt was ‘Graveyard’. Immediately I thought of this very sexy video that was created by my Pole Dancing Instructor and some of her Burlesque students for Halloween last year. Among other things I think this video demonstrates quite clearly the way the Burlesque world accepts women of all ages, shapes and sizes. VSassy has gone out of her way to create a space and support network for any woman to express themselves through dance and I love being a part of that community. 

As always make sure you check out the Wicked Wednesday page for all of this week’s wickedness.