And just like in burlesque shows, where the audience cheers wildly with the removal of each article of clothing, encouraging the performer to reveal more, so too did my friends and family cheer me wildly on as I removed layer upon layer of limiting judgments and beliefs. Through my journey I had unknowingly given others permission to begin their own burlesque, to reveal themselves, and to finally, gratefully, have the opportunity to be seen and accepted for who they were.
My foray into the world of burlesque showed me that burlesque is a joyful experience for the performers and audience alike because it busts stereotypes and celebrates women of all shapes, sizes, abilities, and ages. Burlesque is not about looking a certain way; it is about reveling in one’s reality. While other middle-aged moms flocked to me, larger women flocked to the larger burlesque performers, and flat-chested women crushed on the flat-chested performers. Seeing performers who looked like them, with what they perceived to be their same flaws, but who dared to be confident, beautiful, sexy, or funny in spite of those flaws, set them free to embrace those same qualities in themselves.
The act of watching someone just like them shed the label of fat, flat-chested, old, or ugly and be seen in all their glittery, flawed gloriousness was enough for some women to loosen their own labels. Watching their favorite performer do all they wished they could do, seeing others react encouragingly to their visibility, empowered many women to believe that they could let go and show their true selves as well. With its focus on humor and female-dominated power, burlesque gives women explicit permission to live confidently, joyfully, and without cover.
Is it any wonder that throughout my metamorphosis into an actual burlesque dancer I had so many friends watching my every move? Every layer of fear or expectation that I broke through — every label, role, or script that I challenged, reinterpreted, or removed — gave them permission to do the same. If I could be outrageously happy in spite of my imperfections, so could they. As I broke what I perceived to be “the rules,” I proved to myself that there was nothing stopping me from building my dreams and living my sparkle, except me.
The laughter, parody, and joy in the face of taboo and judgment that burlesque provided were the ideal combination to heal wounds around body image, sexuality, self-judgment, gender roles, power, shame, or guilt. Without setting foot on an actual stage, many of my friends were able to strip out of the fear, lies, and inhibitions that had been placed on them by their culture, family, or religion — or that were self-imposed. Just as my childhood belief that I needed to be perfect in order to be worthy became my metaphoric corset of perfection, so too could others find ways to release their own inhibitions.
Not only had I disrobed physically but I was disrobing emotionally, too, by living my particular brand of sparkle. Society said that a middle-aged mom, lawyer, and spirit-based female-empowerment coach shouldn’t do what I was doing. But I did it anyway. Not to rebel or to create a fuss, but because it was in my heart to do it. I was no longer worried about looking like I was doing the right things for the right reasons or being what I thought others wanted me to be. I was interested in getting metaphorically naked and revealing everything there was about myself.
And as a result, I was happier and more content than I had ever been. Accepting myself and my desires as they were freed me to dance my own dance with wild abandon, and that was exactly what I did!
Your Inner Burlesque Star
Your inner burlesque star is your naked, authentic self. She is the confident, fun, playful, anything-is-possible part of you who cannot be hurt by others, because she knows that accepting herself is the only thing that truly matters. Although she loves costumes, masks, makeup, feathers, glitter — the whole nine yards — she knows how to take it all off. She’s not afraid to strip down, to show off her beauty, her brains, and her beliefs, exactly as they are. Without apology. Do you think you might want to hang out with her? She’s pretty awesome!
Like playing an elaborate game of dress-up, FLAUNT! allows you to put on and take off a variety of personas. And just like in a real burlesque routine, strip out of the ones you find confining, outdated, or not to your liking. FLAUNT! is pure creative fun that does not require you to add to your already overly busy life. To the contrary, finding your inner burlesque star creates more space, grace, and joy in both your professional and your personal life because, like cleaning out your closet, clearing the clutter makes it easier to see and appreciate the goodness that remains.
Plus, it’s fun! Creating a visual representation of your fears, insecurities, and judgments keeps it lighthearted and makes it easier to choose what to shed and what to keep. Burlesquing your life challenges you to remove your layers of judgment and protection, to face your fear of being naked — whether that nakedness is emotional, intellectual, or physical — by saucily stripping away the coverings you are most afraid to lose and offering up your raw, authentic self, without apology. And to do it all with a wink and a smile!
Are you ready for a burlesque dance party? Let’s FLAUNT!
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man [ahem, woman] in his [her!]
time plays many parts.
— WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, As You Like It
If, as Shakespeare so aptly pointed out, all the world’s a stage and each of us are merely players, playing our parts until we fade away into oblivion, the question inevitably becomes “Who is choreographing your life?”
A choreographer is the person who composes the sequence of events or moves in a dance or a play, leading to a meaningful, cohesive, and purposeful performance. While it is sometimes appropriate to allow others to choreograph your life, it is all too easy to forget that the primary choreographer is you.
The Legacy of Regret
Let me tell you a story. I was close to both my grandmothers, who, by the standards of their day, were pretty perfect women. Although I assumed there were things about them that I didn’t have the full scoop on, I felt like I really knew them. But after they passed away, I learned I had been wrong. I found out that these women were so much more than they shared with me, our family, or the rest of the world. And because they had kept parts of themselves hidden, their true essence had been lost forever, not only to themselves but to all of us who loved them.
I am not making this up. On her deathbed, my grandma looked up at my dad (who is hugely into genealogy) and said, “You know those stories about my father, and how mean he could be? Don’t ever worry that anger is in your lineage, because I was adopted.”
And then she died.
We never had the chance to learn anything more or to ask questions. We knew her, but we didn’t know her at all. Because she was afraid that others would not accept her if they found out, she had covered up a key piece of herself and our family’s history. Although we were grateful she finally revealed herself to us and allowed us to integrate this tidbit of information, it was kind of too late, because we never had the opportunity to see her naked and exposed, for exactly who she was!
And