[Originally written June 25, 2015]

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          I started dancing on Monday May 7th, 2012. I remember this date so well for a couple reasons. The first and easiest to explain is that my birthday is on the 8th. I started on the 7th, when I was still technically 19, and was on stage at midnight. So in essence, I danced my way into my 20's. The second reason – and the one that usually gets me funny looks from a lot of people – I was finally living my dream. Yep. I've always wanted to be a stripper. I was very young when I first learned of these strangely beautiful creatures and why there were shiny metal poles in all of their pictures. Long story made short, I was visiting my grandma's boyfriend's house with my dad. Larry (grandma's boyfriend) was a total bachelor. I'm talking fridge, stove, television, bed, dining table (you know, things that are normally in their own designated rooms) all in one room. His house was just larger than an efficiency apartment, with a garage that one could easily have a car lot in. In his house, there was no wallpaper. No, just naked women, pasted tactlessly all over the walls. Most of them were on poles, either posing against them or hanging from them. After my dad and Larry were finished with whatever they were doing, we got in the truck. Being the inquisitive youngster I was – maybe 5 or 6 at the time – I asked my dad why grandpa Larry had those naked ladies everywhere. He explained, as gently as he could, that sometimes men like to look at naked ladies and that they don't realize that there may be children around to see them and ask questions. Having lived with my great grandfather my entire life, this was nothing new to me. Hell, he had pictures of naked women all over the garage where I spent most of my time.

 

          After listening to dad struggle to answer just the first in several years worth of questions that he dreaded being asked, I dropped the subject. I spent the rest of the weekend with him and went back home. I spent much of the next few days thinking about the girls I saw in the pictures at Larry's and wondering if I could be like them when I grew up. Being just a kid, I didn't see them as sex symbols, or whores, as my great grandma called them. I saw them as pretty women that were good enough to have their pictures in magazines. I saw them as celebrities, much the same way other girls my age saw Brittney Spears or the Spice Girls (this was the early 90's, mind you). Every girl wants to be pretty. They want to grow up to be beautiful singers or actresses, marry handsome men and have good looking children who, in turn, will want the same. After asking my great grandma the same questions I asked dad, I immediately associated pole dancing with a certain stigma. You know the the one: dope fiend, whore, too dumb to get a real job, and so on. The older I got, the more negativity I associated with pole dancing and stripping. Though I still toyed with the idea now and then, it was something I swore I'd never do for sake of myself and my family. I put on some shoes and makeup and I'd suddenly become a drug-addicted, homeless single mother. I felt dirty and embarrassed of myself for ever looking up to these... these things, which now seemed less than people.

          I was in 6th grade when I met the person who I would spend every waking moment with for the next 2 years. Her name was Dani. We were in band together – this is still somewhat relevant, I promise – and we were immediately inseparable. I asked her if she wanted to go ice skating with me one night after school, as I was a figure skater at the time and wanted to show off my awesome skills. My great grandma took me to pick her up and we went out. That night when I took her home, I was invited by her mom to stay the night. I nervously obliged having never slept at a friend's house before. Soon, I became part of her family. Her brother and sister became mine, her mom even told me I could call her mom, too. I never felt so welcomed my entire life. We were close. We shared everything. We laughed and cried together, made and ate meals together. Mom even bought me clothes and makeup. We were for each other and against each other at times, we motherfucked each other up one side and down the other on occasion. But, we were always there when someone needed us. This was the true feeling of family.

 

          Being the over-sharers that women are when we converge, I came to find out that Tammy (mom) was a stripper back in her heyday. This hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought to myself, she's not a bad person, so how could she have been this thing​? I didn't even want to associate her with the word. She was a wonderful mom, a great person and an awesome friend. I talked to her about it, asked lot of questions. She was brutally honest about everything, including the notion that she would outright murder Dani or me if we ever so much as even set foot inside a strip club. From that moment on, my outlook on strippers was forever changed. Again.

 

          For whatever reason, Dani and I parted ways. Tammy left an impression on me to this day and I still think of them and their crazy family from time to time. I met my current boyfriend, CJ, when I was 14 through a mutual 'frienemy' of him, Dani and myself. We'll have been together 9 years as of May 17th of this year and in our long relationship, I had mentioned numerous times about wanting to become a stripper but never having the guts. CJ kept telling me that I should go for it when I turn 18. We had long, in-depth conversations about it over the 4 years of our relationship that I was still a juvenile. I looked online for tips on how to get started, where to go and what I should wear. After years of throwing the idea out the window, only to let it back in, I finally said fuck it. I called a few different clubs in the area, asked around about what people have heard and went with the one that had the least amount of negative reviews. I deeply regret my decision to start at this place in particular, the name of which I'll not mention because they're not fit to have their name displayed anywhere. I danced there on and off for about a year until I realized that maybe this wasn't the industry for me. I was treated like a piece of meat in a den of hungry wolves. I was exposed to things that no girl should be exposed to without consent. This place was everything I was told it would be – drugs, sex, drunk women getting violated by drunk men – and yet, I stayed. I made a couple of good friends there, and the money was [occasionally] awesome. It wasn't far from home, I could sit at the bar and get free drinks all night despite the fact that I was underage and everyone knew. Plus, I had a passion for dancing on stage. I learned a lot in my time there. Everything from reading people, to how to do my makeup for the club lighting, and even how to dance a little. I especially learned not to trust anyone, ever.
 

          I quit. I was sick of being seen as nothing more than a vagina in stilettos and then treated as such. It's not that I couldn't handle it, I just didn't want to have to. And anyone who knows where I'm talking about knows that management and staff were absolutely no help whatsoever. The customers were rapists, and the staff were their accomplices. They even provided all the furnishings in their rape dungeons. The words “brothel” and “whorehouse” don't even begin to describe the fresh hell that this place actually was. Have you ever seen the movie Taken? Liam Neeson's daughter gets kidnapped and sold into a sex-trafficking ring. This place was pretty much that exactly, except us girls were willingly walking into this place every night. I rarely made money because I chose to do everything by the book. Men didn't admire me for my skill or personality, they wanted a good ole fashioned suck n' fuck, and that was it. I've been told this straight to my face by the men themselves. Though I must say, I'm glad for the experience. Like I've mentioned, I really did learn a lot and it was a stepping stone that led me to be where I am today. This place scarred and jaded me, it brought me to tears, made me hate myself and question every decision I ever made. However, it never broke me.

 

          I was out of the industry for maybe 6 or 7 months before I had put it all behind me and started to miss dancing. I missed it like an old friend that moved away and you never talked to again. I would tell CJ, sometimes everyday, that I miss it and wanted so badly to go back. He encouraged me and told me that I should be doing what made me happy, so long as I was safe and comfortable. He even helped me search for different places online and asking his friends. Finally, it came to someone I knew would never steer me in the wrong direction. A person who I'd known for just a short while, but I knew I could believe when he told me that I'd be completely safe (names and reasons will not be mentioned for confidentiality purposes). And you know something? He was absolutely right. He gave the a name and number to call. I called, nervous as all hell, and I left them a voicemail. A few days later, I heard from a man who told me to come on in and audition. This was by far one of the best decisions I made, and I wish all those who helped and encouraged me along the way had even the slightest idea how much it means to me now, and how much I love and appreciate them all.

 

         The place was called Roxy's and was described to me as, some old fuckin' barn thing behind some dude's house out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere. Reassuring, right? I gave it a shot anyway. I looked up the address and it was 33.3 miles from my house. At the time, it seemed too far for me to be working there regularly, especially with the worry of being too tired at the end of the night to drive home. I packed my “work clothes”, hopped on I-76 and took the bull by the balls. The 45-minute drive helped me get in the zone. I prepared myself mentally; practicing what I would say to everyone when I got there, what songs I would dance to for my audition, what I would wear... I lost my moxie immediately upon parking my car. Heart pounding and lump in throat, I headed through the doors. I forgot everything in my car. I was greeted at the door by a rather large gentleman who went by the name Sanchez. I knew I was in the right place. Tattoos, gauges, dreadlocks. I was instantly at ease. He spoke to me like a person; a real person with real feelings. He could tell I was nervous and kept asking if I was alright. He assured me I didn't have to do this if I didn't want to and made certain I was making the right decision. He wasn't the creepy, overbearing pervert type that I was used to dealing with in the management position. He introduced me to Raina. A woman, who I'll admit, I was intimidated by. I'd heard she had been dancing for some 10+ years. I thought she was going to judge and look down on me. She was indescribably beautiful with a personality that equaled. She had a motherly nature about her. She was one of us, she knew, she understood. She spoke softly and carried herself with elegance and benevolence. She didn't dance anymore at the time I met her, but I was lucky enough to catch her on stage once in a blue moon. I became especially close to her when I learned how real she was. Several weeks after starting, I was having an off night for some reason – probably hormones – and burst into tears while I was sitting at the bar. She took me into a back room where she kept her belongings. We sat on the couch and talked about myriad of topics. I told her I had no idea why I was crying so uncontrollably. I really didn't, it was a good day otherwise but I had a minor breakdown out of nowhere. We talked, laughed and cried together. Sanchez came back to make sure we were okay and left as soon as he realized what was going on. We had a giggle, shared a cigarette and got back to the hustle and bustle of work.

 

          Back to my first night, I was then introduced to Mark the DJ. Kind, funny, adorable Mark. I didn't realize at first how amazing he was. Having worked elsewhere, I learned not to give a shit about anyone but myself. I warmed up to him over the next couple of weekends and started to grow a deep appreciation for him. I watched as he juggled songs, organizing and reorganizing them to the girls' liking with no fit or fuss. I clung to him if Sanchez or Raina were busy with something else. I saw these three as my guardians. I took confidence in them, knowing I was safe as long as they were around. I've seen trouble get snuffed out without hesitation or delay, like match doused with water before it was completely struck. Mark is the kind of guy that knocks before entering the dressing room, only to enter anyway regardless of the response he gets. He checks on us, walks us to our cars at the end of the night, and asks nothing in return. I've sat and shared story after story with him, shot pool and stolen his ashtray on countless occasions. There was one night a couple months ago that I thought a customer had slipped something in my drink because he had “accidentally” walked away with it and brought it back just as I realized it was missing. Mark checked it for me – by taking a good swig of it, of course – and told me to wait 10 minutes and if nothing had happened to him then I should be fine.

 

          Then there was Danny. I thought her name may have been short for Danielle but she informed me that it was just Danny. She was another girl that I was drawn to immediately. She's just a crazy, tangled mess of emotion and greatness. She's the absolute definition of perseverance. She's one of the most perfect examples of the types of girls that everyone should work with. A mix of realism and quirkiness, she is bubbly yet firmly grounded. She's helped me in more ways than she probably realizes and I love her more and more everyday for it. I don't think there is a combination of words in the English language that describe how I see her and what she means to me. Naturally, two things that come to mind are legs and boobs – with all due respect, of course – and anyone that knows her will agree. She moves as though she's creating a work of art, pouring heart and soul into every twist and bend. Danny is a huge inspiration to me personally, because she survives. I've seen her on what would seem like her worst nights and yet she still manages to keep herself centered and focus on her priorities. She'll have her time in the dressing room to straighten out, and then picks herself up by her bra straps and gets right back to the grind.

 

          One other person that I owe a lot of credit is Simon. He's been around since before I started dancing there 2 years ago. I discounted him at first because I never thought he would give me the time of day. We made small talk and asked each other about our tattoos. He was introduced to me by Mark, so at the very least, I knew he was someone I could trust. It wasn't until the past few months that I realized I should have paid more attention to him from the get go. I just thought he was some guy that came in to occupy space and pass time. We've had some of the deepest conversations I've ever been a part of about everything and nothing. He's my best friend, and yet another person I would trust with my life. He watches out for me and gives me a swift kick in the ass when I really need it. He pushes me to talk to other customers and points out anyone sitting alone or who hasn't been talked to by any girls yet. He wants to see my make my money, so he can turn around and buy me a pack of cigarettes at the end of the night, anyway. He's the kind of guy that blows out my lighter when I'm trying to smoke, just to swoop in with his lighter and light my cigarette for me. He's quick to make sure the ones he cares about have what they want and need, still while asking no recompense.

 

          Another long story cut short, I got a call sometime towards the beginning of autumn. It was Sanchez and he said he had some bad news. He told me that the club was sold to new owners, all the girls would have to go through a reapplication process and that regrettably neither he, Raina nor Mark would be there anymore. It was a devastating blow. A place that I had come to call my second home and the people I was closer to than my own family. The place I'd felt more welcome than my own house or any other. I thought that would be the end of my dancing career. I'd made so many incredible and fascinating friends. The girls I worked with, the customers, everyone. They were all gone. I remained in contact with a handful of them, mostly just to see how things were going and what they were up to. Nearly a year later, Danny had told me that she was back at Roxy's, but that it was now called Omega. I was apprehensive to come back. I was also delighted to learn that Mark was there, too, and things were pretty much the same as when I started. I made the decision to go back with encouragement from CJ, Danny, and Mark. Sanchez and Raina even told me that they had no qualms about me returning there, despite whatever had happened in the past.

 

          It's been right around 8 months since I've started back – on and off with injuries, other engagements and personal matters – and it seems as though time as just flown right past me. I'm so happy to be working somewhere that I am accepted for who I am, and with the most amazing people. I've made so many more friends than I ever could have imagined, I've learned so much more than I thought possible. I've grown as a person and a dancer, and all the credit goes to the people I've mentioned. They've stuck by me through thick and thin, best nights and worst nights. I've gotten advice, and given in return. I've learned so much about life in general and every night is a totally new experience, even if I spend it with the same people as last night. I have an unbelievably wonderful group of friends that feel more like family, a loving, supportive, and incredible boyfriend that deals with me on a daily basis, and every single one of them means everything in the world to me.

 

          Seriously, I love you all so much. Thank you for everything, and helping me get to where I am today. Without all of you, I have no idea where or who I would be. You've taken me and turned me into someone who is starting to be proud of who she is and is comfortable being her true self. I've gotten more love and support than I ever could have wished for. I hope you all know how much I appreciate each and every single one of you guys. You're amazing.

 

 

Always,

 Riley