Stronger

I had Pole this evening. Our last class of this session

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A woman had come in for Zumba but the teacher never showed, so she joined our class. She had never taken a pole class before, so our instructor was alternating between our review and giving her a few lessons in Pole 101. Watching her tentative steps around the pole, I reflected on how far I’ve really come in this often interrupted journey. How much stronger I am, how much more confidence I have. How proud I am of every bruise and sore muscle I walk away with.  And -- anyone who knows me will know how amazing it is to hear me say this -- how graceful I can be. 

Of course, I’m not the only one. A girl in my class managed to do something tonight that she has been working all session on. We clapped for her. We’ve all been there. It might not look effortless quite yet, but the confidence that comes from actually being able to hold a position even for a second is wonderfully gratifying. Her face glowed for the rest of class. 

I’m not usually comfortable admitting what new trick I can do. It’s as though I have a fear that people will expect things from me if I admit to it. Or that it can be taken away from me once it leaves my lips. But the truth is that at this moment, I can do a few interesting tricks and I don’t collapse halfway through class. Strength and muscle memory are gained in small increments, but gained nonetheless. It may have taken me longer than some to get to this point, but the point is, I’ve gotten this far.