The Ultimate Seduction: Finally Giving In to Me. {NSFWish} ~ ShaMecha Simms
“If you can’t seduce yourself you definitely can’t seduce anyone else.”
The instructor for Pole 101, clad on that day in a black baby tee, low-rise briefs and six-inch heels, was very much correct in her assessment; despite 30 years in my skin, I had not taken the time to properly seduce myself and barely realized it.
I suppose you could pinpoint it to the high intentions of my parents. My father would repeat over and over for my sisters and I to invest in our brains, our looks could not maintain a relationship or occupation.
And he is right.
My limited “feminine wiles,” as Daddy refers to it, took a backseat to more socially acceptable traits: being intelligent, just self-deprecating enough to find it okay to laugh, honesty and loyalty. I somehow managed to get men to look past less endearing traits as well: my “weirdo” (I guess this is the compost bin we heap unknown variables in) and the Jersey girl potty mouth, just to start.
But if you asked me to define, barring how I look, what makes someone experience the primal urge to continue f***ing me despite being a weirdo—I couldn’t understand it for a long time.
And I can assure you it wasn’t because I am arguably intelligent.
“Oooh baby you want me?”
So about seduction, I’m sure you know what this means, right?
I define seduction as the ability to be reeled in, cajoled, willingly captive to a force that knows exactly what you want and how you want it. A power that can either lift you high into the sky or decimate everything that defines you.
The creature that wields seduction most effectively rarely gets a flat-out “no.” Not because she turns her lover into a “yes man,” but because she fosters trust within the chosen. As to whether or not placement of that level of trust in a seductress is wise must be considered for another post. Yet, the notoriety associated with using seduction as leverage for attraction might explain why it took so long for me to apply it.
How did I even get into this teachable moment?
The short, logical answer is Groupon, but in reality, I manifested it several months ago thinking the opportunity would present itself in Vegas. However, there simply wasn’t enough time or resources for me to commit to classes on my trip so I socked it away and forgot about it.
Even then, it never crossed my mind that, “I have no idea how to express my sensuality so let me take classes to enhance it.” I wanted to try something new and venues for that experience are limited in the land of Oz.
And then it materialized, of all times, staying at my mother’s home in Atlanta.
Audience of one.
The first of eight classes I attended at the studio was “Vixen,” a mixture of Lil Jon-induced twerking, sensual touching/crawling and hip-hop moves. Followed by “Pole 101,” “Lap Vegas,” “Jiggle” and “Ballesque” classes. I became absolutely hooked by the fun, camaraderie with other women and sunny dispositioned instructors. Caked, crusty build up on my sense of self, by external elements and even my own negative self-talk, dissolved as the temperature of the room rose in the glow of blue lights.
Each hip roll, hair flip, booty pop and successful pirouette gave me a reason to look at myself a little differently. My back bends took on a more sensuous arch. Floppy, awkward hands and feet activated their innate kinesthetic heritage. I found the courage to draw attention to my least favorite body parts by “outlining,” eventually becoming one of my favorite places to feel up.
Even my internal dialogue changed.
Look at me gettin’ it!
Do it Ms. Simms!
Work it honey!
You sexy mutha (Prince-esque scream)!
Take me.
When I reached the last day of my purchased sessions I had a tough time deciding between “Pole 101” or “FloEroticity” (which I had not taken yet), ultimately I decided that one final turn around the pole was what I truly wanted.
We breezed through basic mechanics: how to sexy walk, hand placement and the routine. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” the instructor implored. “Make sure you catch your eyes.”
Something finally clicked as I “stirred the pot” with my hips and traced the warmth of the pole with my fingertips. The balance between control and let go necessary to create beautiful spins became second-nature.
I wanted to see me; watch me break the waves of the music with awareness and dive back under in anticipation of the next move. And when the learned routine finally ended the seductress took over with her own agenda for what seemed like an eternity.
I finally became part of the chosen.
“Take what you learned with you and practice!”
Those were the words Ro, the instructor of “Vixen,” gave me on my last day in the studio. A couple of nights later I dreamed a most fascinating dream. I dreamed that whatever I wanted can be mine—the untameable man, the woman who has walled off her heart, a job with minimal bulls**t.
I seduced my essence and it is willing to give me whatever I ask of it.
Lesson complete.
***
But before I go, here are some of my favorite songs to get you thinking about your own path.
“Yeah baby she’s got it.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26q1BNZJ4v8&w=420&h=315Do the “uh oh uh oh oh oh no no, uh oh uh oh oh oh no no.”
“I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.”
ShaMecha Simms is dedicating this piece to all the goddesses strutting their stuff at the Atlanta studio; and to every woman who is learning to embrace the goddess within. You can find ShaMecha on Facebook or Twitter.
~
Editor: Kate Bartolotta
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Screenshots courtesy of YouTube
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