Want to Try Pole But…

If you’ve been thinking about signing up for a pole class but something is holding you back, this is for you.

Maybe you think you’re not strong enough.
Not flexible enough.
Not confident enough.

I want you to know that you don’t have to be any of those things to begin.

When I took my first pole class, my life was very sedentary. I was almost 30, working a corporate job that drained most of my time and energy. I tried going to the gym on weekends, but I never enjoyed it. I didn’t stretch. I had never taken a dance class. I felt stiff, uncoordinated, and disconnected from my body.

Movement simply wasn’t part of my identity.

So when my friend, who had been pole dancing for a couple of years, suggested I try it, I said, “Sure, why not?” I genuinely thought it would be another short-lived phase. Something I would try once and quietly move on from. I wasn’t someone who committed to physical activity. That’s what I believed about myself.

I was wrong.

I fell in love with pole immediately. It was difficult. It challenged me in ways I wasn’t used to. But it was also playful, empowering, and surprisingly freeing. So I went back. Then I went again. And again.

A decade later, pole is still my main form of movement.

You don’t need to be a gymnast. You don’t need a dancer’s background. You don’t need to “get in shape” first. Pole isn’t the reward for getting fit. It’s one of the ways you get there.

You might feel awkward in your first class. You might struggle to lift yourself. Your arms may shake. Your thighs may burn. That doesn’t mean you don’t belong. It means your body is learning.

Everyone walks in with a different starting point. What matters most is that you show up and that you allow yourself to enjoy the process.

For the first couple of years, I kept my pole life hidden from parts of my world.

I was raised by Asian parents in a conservative environment, and I worried about how people would perceive me. During the day, I was a corporate employee. At night, I was in shorts and heels, learning spins and climbs. It felt like living a double life.

I was afraid of being judged. Afraid of being misunderstood. Afraid that expressing sensuality or strength in this way would reflect badly on me.

At one point, a colleague even told me my pole-related profile picture was “inappropriate.” We weren’t even close, yet she felt entitled to comment on my personal life.

That experience stayed with me for a while. But over time, I realized something important:

Most people are too busy worrying about themselves to spend much time judging you.

And if they are judging? Often it comes from misunderstanding. Many people don’t know that pole includes sport, artistry, contemporary flow, strength training, and community. They don’t see the discipline, the athleticism, the diversity of people who practice it.

You can choose to educate them. Or you can choose to protect your peace.

Both are valid.

Life is too short to shrink yourself to fit someone else’s comfort.

Maybe your fear isn’t about judgment. Maybe it’s about your body.

You might think you’re too curvy. Too skinny. Not toned enough. Too hairy. Too “imperfect” because of stretch marks, cellulite, scars, or skin conditions.

I understand that feeling.

When I started, I compared myself constantly to my instructors. They were lean, strong, and graceful. I thought I needed to look like them to deserve to be there. I didn’t.

Your body is not a prerequisite.

You don’t need to change it before you’re allowed to move. Showing up is enough. 

In class, everyone is focused on their own grip, their own balance, their own fear of falling. Your classmates are far too busy trying to remember choreography or hold a climb to critique you.

Instead of asking, “How do I look?”
Try asking, “What can my body do today?”

Are your thighs gripping the pole? That’s strength.
Are your arms shaking? That’s growth.
Are you trying, even though you’re nervous? That’s courage.

Pole has a way of teaching you patience. Humility. Resilience. It teaches you to meet yourself where you are and to respect your body for what it’s capable of becoming.

If you’ve been waiting for a sign, maybe this is it.

Sign up for the class. Walk into the studio. Let yourself be a beginner.

You might surprise yourself.

And if you do take that first class, I’d love to hear how it feels.