LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Tag: body confidence (Page 1 of 3)


Alternative title: It’s no secret that I can’t dance, I have no sense of rhythm … In fact, I am probably the only person on the planet who can put Carlton Banks to shame! Yet there I was, pulsing squats and belting out the words to “Booty” in my dulcet (read as: tone deaf) Northern tones like a right royal tit.

Did I look like a tool? Yes (not much of a change from normal there then). Was I completely out of sync? More than likely (I walked into a door this morning so very likely – I am a disaster area!). Was I sweating buckets? Erm, can we say ‘glistening like the goddess I am’? (I was freaking drenched – back and butt sweat is the worst! Urgh).

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Pole Update – Doubles

Alternative title: The only thing more terrifying than me putting my faith in my thighs to stop me flying down a pole and cracking my chin off my arse (because I’m sure that’s what happens when you manage to concertina your body) is putting my faith in my thighs to stop me flying down a pole and cracking my arse off my Pole partner’s chin (and subsequently managing to concertina both bodies in a random smush of H&M sportswear and Nike short-shorts). 

In the words of Placebo* (any excuse for a Brian moment): “someone call the ambulance, there’s gonna be an accident!”

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Pole Update – Skater Pose

**For the squeamish types – I’ll be talking (briefly) about Periods and botty troubles**

Alternative title: Mother Nature has blessed me with a period cramp of such epic proportions that I fear even trusting a fart would be a disaster (please tell me I am not the only one who deals with potential botty blow outs when it’s that time of the month? I’m sure period squits is a thing), so what the devil was I thinking walking into the Pole Studio?!

Well …

“Screw you Mother Nature” is pretty darned close.

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Rise of the Pole Dancer

Alternative title: New Instructor, New Moves, Same Ole Ruebi? … Judging by the amount of times I’ve shrieked “I have a flapjack wedgie” and “well, I don’t need to shave there anytime soon” I can safely say that yes, I’m the same ole Ruebi … And yes, front wedgies are as painful as they sound!  

My hands are blistering, my thighs are burning and I feel dizzy from the spins but the anger I felt pre-class has dissipated and what remains is a mixture of contentment and respect. Pole Dancing isn’t just a sport for me, it’s part of my therapy – It pushes me outside of my comfort zone in a manner that gives me control over the Anxiety and Depression, it allows me to vent frustration/anger in positive ways, it shows me how strong my body and mind are and it allows me to interact with an amazing group of supportive and body positive women.

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