There exist no textbook definitions for who I am – a non-binary nightclub dancer, an anomaly in the world of sequined shades and champagne towers. Every evening, I unmask myself on this small platform, shedding the stereotypical layers to present my true identity. An object of curiosity for some, a beacon of fearless liberation for others, I dance in the name of my hard-won freedom and take pleasure in the uncertainty it brings. The feeling of intimacy that washes over me in these moments, as I reveal my soul through my art, is paradoxically empowering and overwhelming.
Here, on the dance floor, lines of control and dominance are fluid, bending and readjusting with every movement. I am the puppet master, the audience my marionettes, swaying and applauding on my command. My environment teems with desire, raw and unabridged. I lead them on, tracing my self-carved path, creating a vortex of passion they can't help but fall into. I weave tales with my movements, stories of love, heartbreak, rejection, and acceptance, all of them a leaf out of my own book. Often, as I create these emotional soundscapes, I find myself curating them not for my spectators, but for myself. Sifting through my life's hand-curated links, I use my dance as a catharsis, as a means to revisit and reclaim my past.
Intimacy, to me, is not contained within the realm of personal relations. My dance is my intimate calling, my voice in the language I'm most fluent in. The routines I painstakingly choreograph are more than just meticulously timed moves; they're divulgences of my deepest fears and greatest triumphs. Every step I take, every move I make is a smokescreen behind which lies the real me, inviting those with true empathy to look beyond the theatricality and intrigue, to understand who I really am. This, in my eyes, is the birthplace of real dominance - the power to unveil my vulnerability, to lay myself bare, and still hold their collective gaze, captive, within my charm's grasp.
Despite the changing times, the night, and its possessive darkness never lost its hold on me. The glistening sweat on my brow, the harmonious dissonance of the pulsating beats, the wild thrum of adrenaline coursing through my veins – they tell my story, bear testament to my journey thus far. Yes, being a Ukrainian non-binary nightclub dancer is to live life on the fringes of societal norms. But through my dance, I have found freedom, reclaimed my voice, and discovered my immeasurable capacity to blend vulnerability with dominance. And as I stand here today, the heart of this pulsating universe, I realize that despite the trials, I would not trade this life for any other.
