I needed my space.  I was feeling overwhelmed... suffocated... like he was consuming all of my time. My passion for him even began to fade which was so incredibly heartbreaking because I remember how strong it was in the beginning.  I was attracted to him on a physical, emotional and even spiritual level. He lifted me up during some of the darkest hours of my life, supported me in so many ways, and helped me turn inwardly to learn about myself.  He reminded me to embrace my emotions -- all of them.  He taught me how to balance my vulnerability and my strength.  How to learn from my weaknesses and self-doubt and see the beauty of my resilience. He made me feel beautiful, sexy, creative, talented and valuable.  I couldn't have asked for more.  He had me.  I could barely keep my hands off of him.  But my desire for him turned into need; and need into addiction.  The addiction ultimately became insufferable and I knew I had to quit cold turkey before I completely overdosed.

Yes, I had to quit POLE cold turkey.  Shocking, but true.  Quite honestly, our break up only lasted about a month (LOL) but the separation was necessary.  Just as in some human relationships, I had let my relationship with pole totally consume me to the extent that my whole life revolved around it and I began to lose my own identity.  And in that, I started to lose my passion, inspiration, creativity and desire for it.  As the great poet Kahlil Gibran wrote, "passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction." Our separation, though brief, allowed me to self-reflect and re-assess my priorities.  I knew I wanted pole back in my life.  I just needed a little space before I made a lifetime commitment to it.  In the end, I realized that all I really needed was BALANCE. As much as I prioritized pole, I had to prioritize my other needs too. I only felt consumed by my relationship because I allowed it to happen.

My relationship with the pole started as purely a creative outlet -- for myself.  It merged my love of dance, aerial arts, athleticism and self-expression.  Pole dancing felt like freedom, breath, expansion, surrender, screaming at the top of my lungs or crying softly in the corner.  It was my emotional release. But things shifted when I turned my creative outlet into a business. I became the Co-Creator of a worldwide organization that trains, educates and certifies pole dance instructors.  (I'm sure that others in the same business OR pole studio owners, pole dance instructors, pole federation organizers, pole magazine publishers, pole dance champions etc. can relate.) Yes, my relationship with the pole suddenly became a lot more serious.  What was once just a lusty, passionate love affair became a commitment that required lots of responsibility, deadlines, planning, product development, budgeting, marketing, customer service etc.  The intimacy I once shared with the pole suddenly became an open relationship and I had to make sure everyone's needs were being met. I was unfortunately forgetting my own.  

Bottom line:  Business was interfering with my pleasure.  And as much as I thrive on career success, I know myself well enough to admit that; when I neglect to nourish the artist inside, I'm miserable.  And when I'm miserable, I'm unproductive.  It's a lose/lose situation.  My business and my artistic expression are equally valuable to me and I refuse to let the quality of either suffer.  I want my business to continue to succeed and grow but I must maintain my passion for the art-form that inspired it in the first place.

So, I'll no longer mix the drugs known as "business" and "pleasure". That's a lethal combo when left unattended.  Instead, I've come up with a new plan to re-kindle my personal and passionate relationship with pole while building a successful career in this amazing pole fitness industry.