Show Us Your Skin

Show us your full thighs, the scars on your knees, your freckles and stretch marks. Show us that spot you’ve put creams and lotions on. Show us what you’ve been told you should to be ashamed of. Show us that belly that brought life into this world, those legs you swear have cellulite, that waist that has softened over the years.

We need a little skin exposed to stick to the pole, it’s true. Mechanically, it prevents you from sliding on the slick metal as you try to climb and master all of the coolest tricks in the book. Beyond that, though, show us your skin because you’ve decided to love it today. Allow your body a much deserved break from all the poking and prodding and the occasional disapproving glance in the mirror. We all, every single one of us, have something that we feel a little self conscious about. I’ve spent more time glaring at the dark patches on my knees than I care to admit. They are the knees of a black dancer; darkened from countless moments of teaching sexy push ups and sliding across studio floors.

My fingertips have danced across keyboards, desperately searching Google for the one golden remedy that will make me feel beautiful. I have smeared cocoa butter…after a charcoal knee mask…after a deep exfoliation. I have made concoctions at home with honey and himalayan sea salt. I want to wear sundresses and feel like my legs are Cover Girl worthy. I want people to stop asking what happened to my knees, innocently assuming they are just temporarily bruised.

But….but.

I’m going to show you my skin. I’m going to pour a little extra love on my knees every time I gaze upon them. These knees have landed drop splits right on the beat. These knees have bent and flexed and supported my trembling body while performing at packed events. These knees have spent countless hours demonstrating moves that give students the power to dance in a way that thrills and empowers them…and, damn it, these knees deserve respect. Some days I’ll still struggle, I’ll want to start in on that cocoa butter again, but today I promise that I will try to see the dark marks as a badge of honor. A purple heart earned in the war against self criticism.

So let us see you in your shorts and a tank top, ready to let your body just exist for the hour you’re in class. Maybe the first day you’ll just roll up your leggings, maybe you’ll keep your arms covered, but, hopefully one day, we’ll have the privilege of looking upon you with all that beautifully imperfect skin and we’ll celebrate. #feelfree