Ace on the pole: asexuality in Pole Dance

Words by Grey Ace, she/her | Images by Suzy Lafosse


Grey is posing on a brass pole wearing blue lingerie and shiny silver pole boots. The backdrop is a red velvet pillow wall. Grey has mediun-length silver hair.

I wrote this piece to outline my own experiences, observations and feelings on identifying as Asexual within the Pole Dance community. I’d like to start this with a little disclaimer that Asexuality is a spectrum with a lot of nuance. What I write about here is true to my experience with Asexuality, however it isn’t indicative of the community as a whole. 

When people think of Pole Dance, most people tend to think of how sexy it is. This is not surprising given its origin in the Sex Work industry and how it is portrayed in the media. It’s a very logical association for many to make. For a lot of people, when they talk to a pole dancer one of the things they tend to learn early on, is that for a lot of dancers it isn’t about dancing for men, or even for others. It is dancing for yourself, feeling good, and for many, finding and expressing their sexuality. 

This is why most people are surprised to find out that I identify as Asexual.

Grey is posing against a leopard print wall in navy and white lingerie, with silver boots. She has one hand in her hair.

Finding Asexuality

I was in my mid-twenties when I found the term Asexuality and realized that it fit how I felt like a glove. Before this I was under the impression that I was a “late bloomer”, that one day something would just click, and I’d finally feel that thing everyone else was always going on about.

Finding Asexuality was a moment of relief.

I wasn’t late and I wasn’t broken, I just wasn’t. Wasn’t into it, wasn’t interested, and wasn’t sexually attracted to anyone. Since then I’ve found that I identify as Grey-Asexual, meaning that sometimes (not often), I do find a person sexually attractive. 

That isn’t to say that things don’t look good to me. There is sexual attraction and there is aesthetic attraction. Aesthetic attraction is when someone or something is appealing to the eye, you want to look at them. Often in detail. You may even want to be close to them. It just isn’t a sexual thing. Like a sunset or a really pretty rock, it’s fascinating but it doesn’t turn you on.

It is appreciating the beauty as it is without wanting anything more. This is what I feel when I watch others dance and perform.

Gray is posing in navy and white pole wear with shiny metallic silver pole boots. They are holding onto a brass pole in front of a red background, warmly lit by a vintage lamp in the left corner.

Navigating a Sexual World

Navigating our society when you are asexual is full of moments where you are reminded that you don’t think the same way others do. This is especially apparent when navigating an industry like Pole Dance. So much of our world is designed to appeal on a sexual level. I only recently realized the expression “Sex Sells” is quite literal, people buy products because they are attracted to the model. I don’t relate to that at all.

The notion that I’m not looking at the world in entirely the same lens as others is quite strange. I’ll see things in a way others just don’t get. Likewise, when it comes to dancing, people will see in a dance something that I will have missed completely. 

What even is Sexy?

The word “Sexy” means different things to everyone. The definition of Sexy is “something sexually attractive or exciting”. This word doesn’t mean much to me. I understand the concept of it, however the feeling the word should invoke just isn’t there. I can look at a thing, and objectively break down what looks good about it. What draws the eye and makes it interesting. But my concept of what is “sexy” about it isn’t there, which creates a problem. If the brief is to make a “sexy dance”, how do you do that if you don’t know what sexy looks like? 

Not seeing things as sexy is both restrictive and freeing. I can focus on the flow of the moves, the musicality, and I can throw in interesting or weird themes without worrying too much about it coming across as sexual.

In fact, I often forget that that sometimes there should be an element of “sexy” in there somewhere. I’m often surprised when I put together a routine dressed as a Dinosaur or a Shark and am told that people found it sexy. On the other hand, if I set out to make a sexy routine it never comes out quite as good. Like trying to paint with colours you can’t see, it might be alright but there’s a high risk you’ll miss the desired effect.

It is hard to elicit a response in others that you do not feel yourself. At least not on purpose. 

On the other hand, this disconnect can be incredibly frustrating at times. When people focus on how “hot” or “sexy” my performance was it sometimes feels like they’ve focused on a part of the show that was an accident, instead of the skills I wanted to showcase. I’m not trying to be sexy, I just want people to look at my sick flips. I have even entered a competition with a routine that I thought was funny in the Comedy section, to be told I had entered the wrong category – it was too sexy apparently. That said, I often find the culmination of well executed tricks and flow to get more of these comments – so I use them as an indication that I have done a good job, even though the response wasn’t what I aimed for.

Asexual Assumptions

This is only a minor inconvenience however to the assumption people make that because I’m a pole dancer and because others see me as sexy, I can’t possibly be Asexual. The assumption that if you are asexual that you can’t do certain things or behave a certain way, because others have found it sexual, is so frustrating.

Being ace is about how you see the world, not how you present or behave.

These opinions that Asexual people can’t engage in certain activities are often used to question our identities. I have not yet met an Asexual person who has not had to defend their identity to others, to prove that it is valid and that they exist, because they have engaged in some activity that society has deemed to be too sexual. People forget, what if we are just going for that Aesthetic attraction? What if we want people to look at us like an interesting rock, and revel in our beauty? That doesn’t mean we want to bone them. It is their interpretation to find it sexual. 

Despite all of this, being Ace gives me a unique perspective that I wouldn’t trade.

Whilst I often miss the references others make, or sometimes misinterpret other’s intentions (can’t catch a hint to save my life), I am also able to focus on things that I find others sometimes miss. I can see and appreciate skill and beauty as it is without wanting anything more from it. I can focus with minimal distraction, and through pole I can express how I feel.

Although others see my performance through a sexual lens, I get to showcase and express other facets of who I am every time I am on the stage.