My Secret Fantasy Unveiled

Well the cat is now well and truly out of the bag. It is (or has been since the publication of Closer Magazine on Tuesday 10th January) a widely known fact that I am the UK’s oldest novice pole dancer. I am 60 years old and have discovered my inner Goddess through pole.

Is it a mid-life crisis I hear you ask? Perhaps a bit late for ‘mid’ life and no, I don’t think it was a crisis. Although that is debatable. While my partner was drooling over sports car magazines I found myself lusting over pole dance YouTubes. Perhaps there were some tell tale signs of the syndrome. We were typical empty nesters looking to take advantage of the spare rooms and redundant back seats. Perhaps there was something of a mid-life crisis going on there. And perhaps denial is another typical symptom?

In both cases the pull was unrelenting and while he splashed out 10s of thousands on the Mercedes sports car I bought myself a 10 foot pole for £230 and neither of us have looked back since.

Lots of people thought it would be a white elephant and that I wouldn’t use it …couldn’t possibly be serious. However, I always knew it was a new life style choice and not just a flash in the pan. The reason I knew this was because from day one I could see myself performing just like the girls on the YouTubes. Such is the power of my fevered imagination!

I am viewed by some of my friends as a person who is constantly fighting against the ravages of time by living in a sort of juvenile fantasy world. I tell them this is not the case there is no sub plot. I do what I do because I enjoy the challenge and it makes me happy. Some won’t accept that I can be that superficial. Maybe there is something going on deeper in my psyche that I am running away from but if there is I’m in no mood to face it so I’ll just keep on running.

One year down the route to becoming a pole star and I am still fantasising about my first performance. It is still a long way off unfortunately and I am fully aware that time is not on my side.

I won’t perform until I am acceptably good. It is not enough for me to be ‘good for my age’. That didn’t wash when I was considered too young to be doing x,y or z so it certainly won't now.

Of course the body is getting older and despite a one hour daily work out it is not as toned as it once was and never will be. But I have a fantasy solution for that as well. I’m planning to make cover up clothes with stickability (still working on the blueprint) and when I get too old to want to show the flesh I will still be able to pole in my rubber catsuit.

Until then I will continue to follow the dream and if it never becomes a reality who cares I am enjoying every minute of the journey.

Pole Dancing into retirement

Soozie Campbell