A Peek Into a Stripper's Privates
Coming out of the glitter closet is when a stripper gives no fucks, is proud of her work, and will never again tell anyone she is a cocktail waitress.
Naturally, the people I knew B.C. (before clubs) had different ways of responding once I outed myself. Most were supportive.
My ride or dies praised my bravado, and then immediately went on to ask about industry secrets such as how we dance effortlessly in 7 inch heels, evade camel toe, and smell so damn good.
Unlike my true friends, there were some who were less supportive than they seemed, offering variations of the "You got to do, what you got to do" response. Which I felt (and still feel now) were solely intended to give the person saying it a false sense of relief that deep down inside their friend wasn't really "a stripper," whatever that means.
And then came the private messages.
Specifically from the men who knew me during that delicate time between my teen years and early twenties. Some I knew only as casual friends, friends of friends or colleagues, and others I knew more intimately- regardless, they began to reach out via Facebook Messenger in varying degrees of forwardness.
Here are my real life encounters, and if you're in the industry I'm betting you know the types.
The Entitled Pseudo Friend:
He was only around for house parties, blunt circles, and that one time you were horny. Literally you haven't heard a word from him in TEN YEARS, but he hits you up as if you just had lunch with his baby mama yesterday.
The Desperate Family Man:
You knew him in high school, and never really hung out with him outside of the classes you shared. You're 99.9% sure he slut shamed you endlessly to his popped collar posse. He then grew up to be the exact basic suburban prick you knew he would be.
The Passive Aggressive Joker:
The struggling tortured artist you talked creative vision and government conspiracies with at Brooklyn house parties. Then he found out you were stripping and all of a sudden was full of sell out jokes, sugar daddy insinuations (I wish), and sneered any time you mention how creatively satiated you feel from your work in burlesque. As if stripping and art could coexist? Hmph?!
While I occasionally deal with guys trying to shove their dick through the phone, I've also been completely humbled by the love and support that randomly pops up in my message box.
The Long Distance Admirer:
Maybe you always knew, maybe you didn't, but this guy has been rooting for you since day one. And now that you're out and about with your empowered, raunchy, glam he's letting you know. He acknowledges your feminine power and applauds how enterprising you are, and may even fantasize about making it rain on you one of these days.
If you're a stripper, I'd love to hear what your experiences were when you came out. Also if you have another archetype of people "who knew you when", do share. Don't forget to include the positives! Acknowledging love and support is so important!!