It’s funny to see a room filled with fiercely strong, independent, capable women reduced to a screaming heap of flailing limbs at the sight of a spider. This is what happened on my latest adventure to Sydney. I was one of the screaming heap.
I find a hysterical irony in the fact that out of six people in that room, only five of them could bust out an Iron X, and the only one who couldn’t was our saviour from the spider (which, by the way, was so big it could have feasted on little children). Yes, the man came to the rescue.
While we like to pride ourselves on the fact that we have beastly strength and fearless abandon in the pole studio, we can still experience helplessness and emotional disintegration when faced with perceived danger.
On our pole journey, we overcome mental hurdles and obstacles. We push our own boundaries and become more emotionally resilient. I have no doubt that every one of the arachnophobic women in that room could have waged war on the bohemoth spider and emerged victorious if that had been called for.
But we all acknowledged that as a living creature, it had to be rehoused in the garden. So in the end the spider-handling job was passed over to the one in the room who was quite happy to play the role of protector, and get all the praise and credit for his heroic feat.
There is nothing wrong with letting a man feel like a hero. Perhaps if more of them felt this way, they would actually treat women with care and respect*.