What if I told you that at the beginning of this year, I started training in a new type of exercise that has truly pushed me out of my comfort zone, empowered me, and made me begin to appreciate my body, as it is, more than I have in a long time?
I bet you’d be curious to know more about this form of fitness that has instilled such confidence in me.
It’s pole dancing.
Now, before you get all judgmental on me, let me encourage you to pause for a beat and realize that any stereotypes or preconceived notions you have about pole fitness are likely wildly incorrect, or at least unfair. Shove any thoughts about certain types of clubs out of your brain, here!
I’ve come to learn that pole dancing is less about sexy, slinky movement (unless you want it to be that way, which is also perfectly acceptable) and more about athleticism. The way that I have decided to approach pole is that I am testing my body’s ability to move with strength and grace, and I’m really proud of the progress that I’ve made in the 7 or so months since I attended my first class. I’ve learned that my body (and as a result, my mind) are capable of so much more than I ever thought, and I’ve also found out a few other important things about pole as a sport.
- It’s for everybody. Any person of any gender, size, and age can learn how to do it.
- There are many different styles of pole. You can learn a choreographed routine, you can wear heels, you can go barefoot, you can spin, you can be static, and so much more.
- The biggest obstacle in learning pole is your mind. I’m constantly talking myself into (and out of) certain poses and movements because I am scared of the unknown. It can be frightening to climb eight feet up into the air and put your trust fully in your muscles in order to hang on, much less contort into an elegant posture! But diabetes definitely hasn’t stopped me in any form or fashion from making the most out of a class, and I got proof that there’s other people with diabetes out there who pole not too long ago.
It’s common to have a pole buddy in most of my classes, due to the fact that there’s only a handful of poles available in the studio and twice as many available spots in a given class. So when a woman who was slight in stature and soft spoken asked me if I was okay with sharing a pole with her, I welcomed her over and was pleasantly surprised by what she said next.
“I saw your pump and figured it made sense to share a pole with another diabetic,” she said, motioning toward her own pump which was clipped to her shorts.

My face probably immediately lit up. I was excited to be partnered up with someone who shared something that we both innately understood. We started chatting about the fairly unique experience of pole-ing with diabetes; more specifically, whether or not our diabetes devices got in the way during classes. She shared that one time, her pump detached from her shorts, flung out as she maneuvered around the pole, and got its tubing wrapped around the pole as a result! She was totally fine, but embarrassed by the attention that the incident got her. I reassured her that I’ve had similarly mortifying experiences in fitness classes before, the most memorable being the time that my CGM kept going off in the middle of a yoga class and disturbing the quiet environment. We shared a laugh before refocusing our attentions on the instructor, and for the remainder of the class, our diabetes and our devices became afterthoughts as we transitioned from one pose to the next.
It was a short exchange, but one that bonded us and served as evidence to me that diabetes really can’t stop me (or anyone else living with) from pursuing what we want to do, even something less conventional like pole. This was one of my favorite “diabetes in the wild” encounters that I’ve had in quite some time, and now I know that any time we take a class together, I’ve got someone close by who gets me. And that’s a nice feeling.










