When I was a baby stripper

Sneaking out in dance clothes. Claiming I was a waitress. My mom and sister put 2 and 2 together and figured it out. I was all kinds of hoes and sluts without even being an actual hoe or slut. I was actually a full-time student and Army wife. I had a discussion with him about dancing for money while he was deployed.

To all the neighborhood baby strippers if you want to dance go for it, but have a plan. You are a business and this is a career. Do not allow others to belittle or manipulate you.

My first club was white, and by white, I mean rock and pop music. The customers and dancers were Caucasian. Being the only melanin girl in a white club didn’t bother me. I grew up in the suburbs. That was my life. I was home . The club had a jungle theme to it with paintings on the wall. The best part was it was 4 towns down from where i stayed. The fewer people I knew, the better.

I was searching for dance gigs like backup dancer, gogo dancer, or dance teacher. I found a convincing ad in Craigslist. ‘Make $1000 in 1 night! Convincing right? I thought so too. At least 18 year old me did. My dream job was to dance and make money. I was going to college with a minor in dance so I thought why not. I first had to communicate with my newlywed husband about it first. He encouraged me. . That’s right. I got the green light. I called the number and spoke to something they called the house mom. She told me what i needed to bring.

Low confidence ? Check . Nervous? Check . Lost? Double check . I sat in a chair and watched the other girls dance on stage. I observed the lap dances and customer interactions while i waited to be called on stage. “First timer Bridgette! To the stage.” Pussycat dolls and Britney spears were my requests. As I started dancing, I realized I was a natural tease. As soon as I got tipped on stage my confidence boosted and you couldn’t tell me shit. I was getting dances left and right until it was time to close.

Not every customer was great. There was one that night who irritated my soul. A French man who was extremely touchy feely. He tried to touch my vagina persistently #stripperproblems. He made me highly uncomfortable but he was tipping so I stayed till I was ready to leave. I was happy with my little ole $200.

Being a baby stripper was nerve-racking and enlightening. I blossomed and became a whole new person by fighting my fears and social anxiety. After 6 to 8 months, you’re no longer a baby stripper. Oh how I missed those days. There’s nothing like baby stripper money. To all the neighborhood baby strippers if you want to dance go for it, but have a plan. You are a business and this is a career. Do not allow others to belittle or manipulate you. My mother and sister slut shamed me, I didn’t go back. It took me a year and a half to start dancing again.