I want to thank Baltimore Fishbowl for publishing my creative nonfiction piece, Confessions of a Midlife Pole Dancer, on National Women's Day.
I also noticed something funny and symbolic in this picture of my foot. If you look closely at the mirror, you can see a mass card from my father's funeral. It has a photo of my very Catholic, very conservative father smiling benignly...at my stripper shoe.
Symbolic of me thumbing my nose at the patriarchy and the Catholic Church. I'm laughing and crying because I loved my dad, but I hated his spiritual belief system. I rebelled against it every second of my youth.
Full circle? I don't know. I'm not sure I'll ever find closure.
Oh, and In case you're wondering, I'm still really bad at pole dancing. AND I love it.