How I Became My Dancer Alter Ego Stevie

Wikipedia defines having an "alter ego" in this way: "An alter ego means alternative self, which is believed to be distinct from a person's normal or true original personality. Finding one's alter ego will require finding one's other self, one with different personality."  Many performers have a stage name, or an alias, but having an actual alter ego is, often, even more helpful, for them. Hollywood motion picture studios used to routinely create these, for their actors and actresses. Not only did the birth names, of those people, connect them, including psychologically, to their former life, which they had often wanted to leave behind them, for whatever reasons, but their (imagined and then developed) alter egos seemed more fulfilling, and fun, than the reality had actually been, before they got groomed to become stars. "Rock Hudson" was the alter ego for the truck driver whose real identity was Roy Harold Scherer Jr! His agent came up with it. The woman known as "Doris Day" who co-starred in movies with "Rock" was, in reality, ‎Doris Mary Anne Kappelhoff! Try fitting that onto a marquee! Beyonce created her stage persona, "Sasha Fierce", to be better able to deal with her stagefright and insecurities she felt when performing. As she got more comfortable onstage, and eventually merged with her alter ego, she began to use her own name, after that. Gypsy Rose Lee, famous for her striptease act, and my first role model for the dancer I would become, after watching a 1962 movie 'Gypsy' on TV, when I was a young girl, was Rose Louise Hovick in real life. If you have ever been one, of the millions, of people (including me) who have dyed their hair blonde at some point, out of both curiosity and hope, because of hearing that "Blondes have more fun", you comprehend, to some extent, the point, and the value, of having an alter ego, for yourself. A new hair color even affects identity!

When I was growing up we had relatives from Texas come to visit us some summers, and they would stay with us for awhile. On several of those hot, humid, North Carolina evenings I took it upon myself to create and choreograph impromptu shows with my female siblings and cousins as the cast and present them to our mothers. My brother and our male cousins had no interest in such things as all that singing and dancing that was the feature of those presentations. I was also used to performing, myself, in front of audiences at our church's programs, throughout my childhood years, culminating with my singing one of the main solos for one, when I was in high school. Around the time I was in 5th grade in elementary school, I had parts in different plays. I never did catch 'the acting bug', meaning that process of playing a completely different person. I just was not comfortable being someone other than who I was whether I was playing a real or fictional character. I simply could not mentally or emotionally grapple with and really grasp their ascribed traits and qualities. I had no real comprehension of someone I'd felt no shared identity with. However, for some reason, I really gravitated toward, and somehow saw my (deep, inner) self in, Gypsy Rose Lee, when I watched the biographical movie about her on TV, even though I was still only a child, being raised in an outwardly conservative home environment, back then. Nothing about her life looked much like mine, yet we seemed to be kindred spirits!  I somehow seemed able to resonate with her emotional life. Especially, regarding her relationship with her mother. Her mother was also clearly a narcissist, as my own, and Rose's attempts to cope with and endure her felt all too familiar to me. NPR has an excellent article on Gypsy Rose Lee that goes into some of this which I refer to here: https://www.npr.org/2011/01/08/132746887/gypsy-for-an-american-rose-a-thorny-story.  Her struggles with this helped me not to feel so all alone, in mine with my mother. In my heart Gypsy Rose Lee became a mentor, and my dance coach.

As far as my background, being more specific to dancing itself, there wasn't alot of exposure to it. When we went on a vacation, to White Lake, North Carolina, while I was still a preschooler, I walked past a large, open, paved area where teenagers were dancing together animatedly and apart from one another, doing the twist to that era's energetic 60s music. I just stood there, and stared at them, fascinated by what they were doing. I couldn't pull myself away from there, until I stood there for so long, looking at them, that the teenagers began to notice me, too, and stare back, smiling at me. I was too shy to want that type of notice, when I was young. (I outgrew my shyness as I grew up. Obviously, it would be difficult to be shy and be a 'stripper'.) Mom signed my brother, Mike, and I up to take a ballroom dance class, when I was around 12, which lasted for several weeks. We only learned the most basic steps for the waltz, foxtrot, and cha cha as I recall, with no embellishments, or styling, to express the specific tone of the dance through our bodies. The middle aged woman teaching this class seemed as if she didn't really like dancing, or teenagers! She played the same stale song for each dance she was teaching us, and never smiled at us, or seemed at all enthusiastic, or excited about dance itself. She was anything but inspiring, to learn from! I think that there were about 16 people, in our class. Inevitably, I ended up dancing with my brother, whenever it was time to practice couples dancing after we learned the steps, by standing behind the teacher, as she went through them, for us. For our last class, we actually had a dance party, but I don't recall anything at all about it being festive, although I did get a brand new dress for the occasion! It was a pale yellow with white lace or trim; but the darts on the bodice allowed for some actual developed breast tissue to fill it out which I did not yet have at age 12. So, before we left the house to go to the dance I stuffed all the toilet paper I could fit, into that space, between the dress and my fairly flat chest, and hoped it wouldn't fall out, while I was dancing with someone later, at the party. I was preoccupied with that very real concern, of mine, during the entire evening. While it went okay, with that, the anxiety that I felt about it was enough to undermine what was already an underwhelming social situation for me.

I did not go to prom in high school. It just wasn't my scene. It was not even that I wasn't asked. There were boys who made it obvious that they had real crushes on me! I both dated and had boyfriends. I even went steady with guys a few times, in high school. I just didn't want to go to the dance. I wasn't at all a partier, like the 'popular' group of kids were who I overheard talking about how drunk they got, and how so-and-so made out with so-and-so, behind the church on Saturday night. I had my special group of a few close friends, that I hung out with; and several others besides. For awhile I actually proudly wore a cross around my neck in high school as a meaningful testament to my deep Christian faith. One day, a girl friend invited me to an out-of-town equestrian event of hers, where her mother then gave each of us a very small paper cup of Cold Duck to toast her achievement in the horse riding competition that she was in that day. Even though I didn't feel any effect from the minimal amount I allowed to pass my lips into my body, I returned home, feeling violated, that her mother had put me in that position, in the first place, because that went beyond the normal peer pressure from other teens, which I was not very vulnerable to, growing up, due to the strong sense of self, that I had cultivated, in myself, by then. Those few small sips I took, to be polite to her mother, were the first and only alcohol that I ever drank the entire time I was growing up! I felt tainted now, because I hadn't planned to ever drink at all in my life, at that time. I really felt like I had lost some of my moral 'virginity', in a way.  I was a very spiritual, and principled, person then; and for much, although not all, of my life later on. Because of this happening, and how upset I had felt about that, I went to take a hot shower, as soon as I got home, trying, to wash away, that feeling, of compromise, of my sacred values, that was gnawing at me now. While I was standing underneath the water from the shower head, trying to scrub myself clean (more inside my soul, than outside my body!), I reached up to touch the little chain around my neck with the cross on it, and it broke, just as I did that, falling off of my neck into my hand. Seeing that as a kind of Sign of broken covenant and condemnation, in that moment, of me mourning the loss, of some of my innocence, I just stood there sobbing with the shower water pouring over my head and down my naked body. I had always protected my purity, the best that I could, in this world that I found myself living in, because it was very precious to me. I wouldn't even play 'Spin the Bottle' with the other teens because I instinctively knew, that, my lips, and kiss, were inextricably linked, to my heart, and love, and I never wanted to treat any of that lightly. I sensed, that was something very sacred; linking me, someone in my future, who was still completely unknown to me, and God Himself.

I was a studious girl, in glasses, who excelled in English class and was in the Chess Club with a bunch of boys, whom I sometimes beat, much to their chagrin, and only one other girl. I was average looking although not unattractive; skinny, and fairly flat-chested. If you had known me back then you likely would have voted me as a girl that was extremely unlikely to ever become an exotic dancer in nightclubs! My nose was always in books the entire time I was growing up, mostly as a merciful, and much-needed, escape, from the reality, of my childhood home life.  I would even go under the covers, with a flashlight, at bedtime, so that I could continue reading, when Mom would turn off the light in the room I shared then with my sister in Mebane, and tell me to stop for the night. However, I did, for some reason, do Gypsy Rose-like dance moves in the privacy of my own room, as a teenage girl!  At least, I thought I was doing that all alone, in my bedroom in Hickory, where I finally had a room all to myself, and kept the door shut almost all the time. As it turned out, the much older neighbor boy next door was sitting up in his room, with the lights out over there, so he wouldn't be seen, watching my every move; until his sister caught him doing that, and told my mother about it, who then told me. Although I felt the tug of destiny calling me to become an exotic dancer, it surely did not seem like the path I would end up on! Especially after I graduated from high school and went off to college, to pursue being a Philosophy/Religion major, and I began my study toward becoming a religious worker in some sort of Christian ministry capacity. In case you are wondering, since this blog post is about my becoming a dancer, I'm including all of this background, on who I was, so that you can see the contrast between that and who I eventually became before my dancing career was finally over. I would categorize that as my going from one extreme to the other, so this was quite a journey. In fact, it will take me more than one, although long, post, here, to tell all there is to tell, of that. This blog is, has been, and always will be a very detailed memoir of my own life. It is what it is.

While I was in the Air Force there was this tremendous, not even relational, but, strictly sexual, pressure placed on me, nonstop, because I was not only oppressively outnumbered due to an overwhelming ratio of males to females in this military environment, but so many of them were trying to act on their sexual impulses. Being in their path, I felt the full force of it, coming at me. It was literally overwhelming, for me, emotionally. It was simply more than I could deal with, or navigate through, well. It did not help my anxiety about that, any, at all, that I had already been married to a man that I wed only because I believed he had taken my virginity after getting me drunk, when I was in college, and I had been raped by a stranger when I started working a job that was meant to help me get on my feet, so I could try to leave, that husband, whom I hadn't loved. I suppose I would have to add that being molested, by my uncle, when I was a preteen, didn't help me, to feel safe, around men, either. It did, however, drive home the point that, only because I was a female, especially, one that was adequately attractive, to most males (based on the constant comments I got, from men), I was someone--- more truthfully, some THING--- that they desired. The impact of that made a huge impression, on me. One that would fuel my confidence, to be able to stand, on a stage, wearing little, to nothing, and move, my body, in a sultry, sexualized, way to some song. In fact, this message I was continually getting from men (loud and clear!) just made me feel so worn down, along with everything men were putting me through in the Air Force, while I was stationed at Offutt, that I agreed to go along with some of my male enlisted friends who lived in the same co-ed dorm that I did, when they wanted to go out, to a strip club, one evening. As they drove from Bellevue, Nebraska, where the base was, across the Missouri river, into Iowa, through Council Bluffs, and then to the far side, of that, to just outside the city limits, to finally arrive at this bar, I was relieved, that I hadn't actually been kidnapped by them, for nefarious purposes! (I had gotten into a vehicle, with a man, not many years before this, who had then driven me to a remote location against my will, and raped me, which explains why I had felt, increasingly, apprehensive, in this car, with two men, when they were driving me, to a more and more similar-looking landscape.) The trip there had been long, and dark. It finally ended, in this, isolated, location, where the zoning laws allowed this type of establishment to even exist. As we got out of the car, to go in, I wondered how they had found this place to begin with! It seems men will go to great lengths just to see a naked female body.

We weren't there a really long time. Maybe just an hour or two. While there, I met, and chatted awhile with, one of the bouncers, while the two friends of mine kept their sight set on the stage and the dancers, taking turns, up there. This man had ID'd us when we entered, to be sure we were all of legal age to be in such a bar, and he had been surprised when, along with my male friends, I had shown him my official, U.S. Air Force, Active Duty, ID! He was a huge black man, named Claude, with a big friendly smile and a genuine way about him. We just kind of became instant buddies, as we chatted there, that evening. He actually treated me with, real, respect! I would never have known that night, though, that he was going to end up being my first, actual, friend, that I met, in the business, when I later became a dancer, in these clubs, in the Omaha metro area. Life, is so strange!  We just never, really, know, as we meet random people, along the way, on any given day on this earth, what significance they may end up having in our lives, and how they may contribute to or affect the ways that our lives will end up going. Years later I would be a dancer myself, in a different bar, that Claude would be a bouncer in. But that night, I never could have known, any of that, at all. I had joined the Air Force, wanting, and planning, to have a long career in military service. Soon, though, it would unravel, beyond repair, for me. (That is covered in my blog post, about my time in the Air Force, if you want more information:   https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/07/my-career-in-united-states-air-force-it.html.) I felt safe there, that night, with Claude as my new friend, and I felt fairly safe with my two Air Force friends. I also felt like letting off some steam, pent up inside me, from so many men seeing me as a sex object, so when the show ended with a talent contest, I agreed to get up on stage with a few other women from the audience when my buddies egged me on, and I won that contest. I think we went down to underwear like a bikini. I can't really remember now, though. It was very well lit, too, for 'a stripper bar'! It wasn't dark, or dimly lit, inside, at all.

On the way back to the base, one of those two knuckleheads, I was in the car with, decided to smoke a bit of a joint, he had gotten, somewhere. I was sitting in the back seat, and protested, but, he assured me everything would be alright. Yeah, right!  As we pulled up to the base gate, late that night, the SPs, at the gate, decided they wanted to do a security check on the vehicle. I don't do drugs, and I was freaking out that I would get in trouble, like these guys surely would if those cops smelled that pot, in the car! They even had the german shepherd police dog with them. As they came closer, to the car, I was sitting, in the back seat, my eyes open wide, from fear. Suddenly inspiration struck me, and with it just a wisp of hope along with that whiff of pot. I used my being frightened to try to get us out of this jam. As they got nearer, I said out the car window, "I'm really scared of dogs! Do you have to bring that dog over here? Let the guys just bring you our IDs instead!" After all, the official sticker, that designated their car as authorized, to enter the base, was visible, to them; and, this was long before 9-11 happened, and security restrictions and gate checks got more strict. Seeing real fear, on my face, and likely because I was 'acting like such a girl', which can bring out protective instincts, in men, they agreed! They backed away from the car before they ever got close enough for either them or the dog to sniff that pot smoke which still lingered, lightly, inside the vehicle. (Besides the real fear on my face due to the drug smoke from my friend, putting us at risk of real trouble, as military personnel, I actually had been extremely scared of dogs when I was a child but had eventually outgrown it. I used my recollections, of how I had felt, and acted, then, around dogs, to bring that, from the past, to the present moment, we found ourselves in, at the base gate.) When we were okayed to enter the gate and go on our way, my buddies thanked me, for keeping their butts out of hot water over the pot; but even more because I had agreed to enter the talent contest at the strip club, and they got to watch me. Doing that. In front of them. Geez! Men. That was my one and only 'wild' adventure, while I was in the Air Force. Nothing like that night happened again; then.

Since I was still enlisted I did get a two sentence lecture, though, from an officer who I worked under, at the time, when he found out, that I had been in that dance contest. He told me that, I could not do such things, while I was Active Duty Air Force, because I actually belonged to the U.S Government, and I reflected on them 24/7. Of course, this was very hypocritical of him, to tell me, given what both he and I knew that the males were pulling, all the time. Including him! Not only was he my commander, during that time, and a married man, but he, also, 'hit on me' for sex, continually! I was assigned directly under his command only because I didn't have my security clearance to be able to work in the unit that I had actually been ordered to report to at Offutt.  He was actually the sexual predator, that was so persistent, and pushy, about trying to get me to have sex with him, which I wouldn't and never did, that I had to turn him in to Social Actions, on base, finally, because I felt like he was going to end up raping me; and my military career was the one that was ruined, from that. As far as his admonishment, about my dancing in the strip club's Amateur Night Talent Show, I asked him whether I would be getting a written reprimand or anything in my military record about it, then, and he said no. Then he said, "One more thing.  About that contest, airman . . . . Did you win?"  I replied, honestly, "Yes, sir. I did!" He had already been asking me, several, very pointed, sexual questions, before this day, and this conversation. Culminating with the day he touched my chest, in my uniform blouse, in his small, green, MG car he had ordered me into; telling me that we WERE going to have sex. So  I did not start this line of thinking, in this man. I merely let him know, the best way, that I could, seeing as I was not allowed to slap him since he outranked me as an officer and was over me as my commander, then, that while I was a sexual being it would NEVER be anything that HE would get his hands on. Literally, or otherwise. There was a predator and prey game going on. I did not start it, want it, and was not given a choice, in the matter. He started it, with me; and I finished it, with him. Turning him in for it. But is cost me everything. My entire Air Force career.

After I was discharged from the Air Force, I worked for just a few days as a stripper in a rather sleazy-looking dive, in Biloxi. I had returned, to Mississippi, to see whether the one man that I loved, more than I have ever loved any human being on this earth, still had any love for me; if in fact he ever did. My 'dancing', in that bar, was more like walking around on stage, much like Natalie Wood did in the movie 'Gypsy'*; trying to keep the slick black satin, high heeled, mules on my feet. This was real stripping, though; a 3-song-set ending up with me completely naked, except for the shoes, and the black feather boa I carried with me. It was kind of an out-of-body experience for me; probably because I wished that I was, while doing that, then! I wasn't really into it. It was more of a desperate act, on my part. A cry for help. For love, really; from Jim, the young lieutenant, that I was, completely, in love with, who seemed to have lost his use, for me, and with that, his affection, for me, as well. That was both heartbreaking and humiliating to me. I had been so sure, that we had something special, together. How could I have been so wrong, about that? About us? About him? Now in my early twenties, I was still under the 'Disney' spell. All of those movies had conditioned me to believe that there simply had to be a happy ending! They had informed girls everywhere that 'The End' was just the beginning, and simply couldn't come to that conclusion (in the story on the screen) without the girl being loved, in return, by a knight, in shining armor, or a prince. When that didn't happen with Jim, and I, in Biloxi, I had to come up with a, last minute, contingency plan, which was, for me, to pick up the pieces, of my shattered heart, try not to think about the (actual, physical) pain that I felt from the depth of my loving him so much, when he no longer wanted me, and shed what was left of my self-esteem, along with my clothes, in front of strange men, in the strip joint. I could only tolerate, all of that, for a few days. Then, being, at least, a survivor, by instinct, largely due to how I had learned to cope, with my upbringing, I started searching, for some, more viable, option, even though, any, open for consideration, at that moment, were so far down from any desirable outcomes for me that they weren't even actually on my list of possibilities. I simply had to figure it out, and move forward. My life was going to go on, no matter how ransacked, and ruined, I felt emotionally or mentally. What I did not expect was that I would turn out to be pregnant by Jim, then; who had not wanted me, but had wanted sex with me, and left me with this additional dilemma, to top it all off. I had agreed to have sex with him because I loved him. He wanted to have sex with me to have sex. I had never wanted to have children, and, he had promised to 'pull out'. He didn't.

This part of my journey including my becoming a stage dancer is well covered in my blog post from 7-24-19: https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/07/more-on-one-man-that-i-would-love.html, so I refer you to that post, for more detail, about it. From that post: "Jim helped me [to] get a better job, learning how to become a ballroom dance instructor, at a studio, where he had been involved, in ballroom dance, while he was in this area. The owners taught me, and a few others also hired to train as teachers, the dance steps, just ahead of our having to teach these same steps to paying students!" I was let go from that job though, when it turned out I was pregnant rather than only overly emotional because Jim had left me behind when he left there, for his first duty base, in Nebraska. In summation, of that chapter in my life, here, though, we ended up, unhappily, married to one another, had our son, I ended up giving Jim and his second wife custody of our son, and Jim paid for me to go to a community college to take a 6-week course, to become a Certified Nursing Assistant, so that I could have a more mainstream career choice going forward. I had really enjoyed being a nurse's aide. That really resonated well with the very best of who I was as my original self, "Deborah". However, due to a series of, seemingly, disparate, events, about three years later, I went from being a Certified Nursing Assistant on a hospital medical/surgical patient floor to a go-go dancer, in most of the nightclubs that were in, and around, Omaha, Nebraska, during my career. The post dated 10-30-19 titled "I Was Left Burned Out And Brokenhearted" describes alot more about the events which led up to that change of careers, as well. I believe it really was 'a destiny thing', for me! Although I didn't really recognize the foreshadows, when they appeared across my childhood, at the time, they were there. I can say, now, in retrospect, that I believe we can, all, sense the seeds of our own personal destiny, deep down within us, long before they ever start to sprout, and then bloom, into what they were sown in us to become. The link to my 10-30-19 blog post is: https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/10/from-my-giving-all-i-had-to-my-showing.html. It explains how I finally came to be called by my stage name "Stevie" too; my chosen dancer alias, and my alter ego, neither of which I had been using, prior to this time.

While I was working as a dancer, in this part of the United States, within the city limits, of both Omaha, Nebraska, and Council Bluffs, Iowa (right across the Missouri river from Omaha, and considered to be part of this Greater Metro Area), only go go bars, were legally allowed. So, I want to point out along with that, here, that often go go dancers are, wrongly, called 'strippers' because they do not (completely) undress. The only time in my entire employment as a stage dancer I ever danced totally nude was those few days back in Biloxi. So as far as dancers go, what I did was the tamest type of exotic dancing, all those years I was, mostly, employed as a go go girl. I did other jobs too, during some of those years, which I plan to cover separately, in later posts, but, most of the time from my late 20s to my early 40s I was "Stevie". So much so, in fact, that when I married club customers for my last two husbands of my four, I continued to go by the name "Stevie", in my private life, even during those (most personal of) relationships, because 'she' had become, more authentically, 'me'; or, rather, me, 'her', than the "Deborah" I had so gladly discarded, years earlier, that was tied in to so many bad memories, such as my former identity as the family scapegoat during my childhood and more. These marriages were spoken of anecdotally, in a previous post dated 3-6-19, and will be covered in deeper detail in later posts. I would absolutely assert that dancing on stage, in nightclubs, was by far the most fun job that I ever had and for several reasons provided me with some of the best years of my life! This doesn't mean that everything about it was life in the limelight with no dark side. There was plenty . . . of both, those things, which I will begin to describe in much greater detail in the very next post, here. This post simply lays out the foundation upon which that story will unfold. In the next post, I will begin to take you behind-the-scenes, into the clubs, the dressing rooms, the conversations, with the customers, and my co-workers; even the cops, the sights, and the sounds, of this environment, that actually, unexpectedly, captivated me, capturing my heart, in the process of that. I believe that it will take more than a couple of posts to cover all of this, in-depth, as I plan to do here. There is simply so much to say about it, because it was one of the most meaningful eras of my life! The atmosphere. The people. The hope. And, the heartbreak, including, more of my own. Some of it is so funny! Some, of it, so sad. Some of it will be about sin, and, much, of it, will be about grace, and even redemption. God does so love the sinners! By the way, in case you think otherwise that includes me, you and every person on this planet.

What I need for you to understand about it, for now, though, is that every man that (especially sexually) objectified me, mistreated me, molested me, raped me, abused me, broke my heart, and, in some way, or other, ruined my life, also, killing my hopes, dreams, goals, and plans, in the process, fueled the fiery feistiness, that rose up in me, but that flashed from Stevie's eyes, as 'she' made sure that men could never take the things they wanted, from me, now. Men call this being a 'Prick Teaser', with scorn, in their voice, about that! But, in my opinion, they had it coming, in spades, for all they took, from me, forced, upon me, broke, in me without even any thought, or care, at all, about what condition, I was left in, by them, after they had stormed my very soul, and pillaged, the preciousness, that was me. Stevie, was my superhero, in stilettos! She stood in my stead, strong, fierce, and defiant, where I, Deborah, had been, all my life, but had become so battered, and so broken; and she gave me respite, and rest, from all, that had worn me down, and worn me out, blown my mind and crushed my spirit over the course of my life; until she came . . . to be me. Ever since I was a small child, I had needed a vacation from who, and what, "Deborah", was 'supposed' to be, with all the constraints, conflicts, and crises, in my life that became embedded in my character and personality, as her. It is interesting, that when God began moving someone, away from their former life, into some whole, new destiny, according to His plan, for them, He would sometimes change their name, at the very outset of this transition. Abram, became Abraham, Sarai, became Sarah, Jacob, became Israel, Simon, became Peter. I believe, that the Lord had a hand in Saul's name change, to Paul, as well. All, of these people, were not just given new names. The name changes came with significant life changes, as they were then moved into their, unique, destinies, also; according to the plan, of God, for their lives. Although I can't explain it, and to very strictly religious people, I am sure, I could not defend it, I, absolutely, feel, I was meant, to become "Stevie", as part of my destiny! Whether God willed it, or simply allowed it, I cannot say, this side, of heaven. Some, of it, was sinful. Parts, of it, extremely so! Yet, if anyone says, that God can't use sinners--- which some pastors did protest, to me, while I was a dancer in these nightclubs--- then God can't use any, of us, at all, on this entire planet, since "All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23) God can and does bring good from bad. The fact that I love God with all that I am and my life story is now shared as a testimony of His Grace and Love, is evidence of that.

Still, there were some things, about it, that, deeply, grieved the Holy Spirit, at the time, and for that I feel so truly sorry, to this day. They say, 'Hurt people hurt people', and in this case, I hurt the Personhood of God, with some of the things that I did as a dancer. I will cover all of that in detail, and in depth, in the posts that I am planning to write which I am devoting to this subject. Be forewarned: I am telling you, now, though, that some of it is not going to be a pretty picture. All, of that anger, and sadness, and frustration, which I felt, inside me, led to the creation, and the sustainment, of my alter ego, "Stevie", when I finally did become her, as a dancer. That, is why, although some of what I am sharing might not seem relevant to the subject matter of this post, specifically, it does all tie in to it. Becoming a dancer isn't only about moving your feet, or even, 'shaking your ass'! It incorporates what you think, of men, and how you feel about them; how you interact, with them; live your life, with, or without, and even in spite of, them; and last, but not least (especially, for me!), how you 'survive' them, during, and after, their being in your life. The real heartaches, and life losses, which the men, in my world, created and caused me, became the, deep, wellspring, of what, I would draw from, somewhere, within my own soul, to both birth and maintain my alter ego "Stevie". After all, she was not some other person! As my alter ego, "Stevie" was, a very real, part of me; of who I was, somewhere, inside. Some would argue that she represented a manifestation of my Dark Side. She did, in some ways. But, she was my light, as well. There were blessings and curses, pros and cons, to becoming, to being, "Stevie". It will take me more than just this one blog post to tell all that, though. This is just the foundational background, as I begin, to describe, this really long and winding journey, of how I became her, for better, and for worse. So, be patient, with me, here, because there is ALOT to tell, on this subject. If you think that some of this that I am sharing is not relevant, I assure you that you are very wrong, and don't (yet) understand all that comes to bear on how, or why, any woman becomes a go go girl, an exotic dancer or a stripper. It's a complicated and sometimes conflicting situation, for any female doing it. It is more than a job; or a stereotype. It is your life!

So, I fit that image, that many of us have seen, of the lady, that looks like a librarian, taking off her thick eyeglasses with the dark, mannish, frames and unpinning her hair from the tight bun  it is in, atop her head, to then abruptly release her longer hair in waves with a strong shake of her head. This, makes a, very good, visual analogy, about myself, in going from who I was, as "Deborah", to who I would become, as "Stevie", as I grew into being the alter ego that was the dancer. Even that type, of (go go) dancing, felt like it was such a rebellious act, though. In fact, it would begin to show up more and more in my life precisely at the times that I felt I really was rebelling, against someone, or something, in my life. Because of that it took me years to really see the hand of God in having me working in those clubs. I had pastors protesting that I could not even be saved and be a dancer. I agree that there seems to be some incongruity between the two. However I also believe that God is all about so much more mercy than condemnation, and love than rejection based both on scripture--- including the keystone verse of John 3:16--- and my experience, of Him, in our relationship, over my lifetime. According to scripture, Psalm 139:16**, He foreknew that I would go into dancing, as a career, in my life. I cannot say, in this world, whether He had planned that for me, Himself, or allowed that with me by His Grace. He undeniably used that as an opportunity to reach so many people that I interacted with in those places; that 'good', whitewashed, 'church folk' wouldn't have ever gone near enough to, to say anything, to these people, living in that darkness, about God loving them! Loving them, just as much, as He has loved those sitting in the church pews every Sunday. Because of what I saw, with Christians, especially, during the years, I was, in fact, a Christian AND an exotic dancer, I still say that, I am a very spiritual person and deeply love the Lord but I am NOT religious, and hope that I never will be! Religion, is about rules. God, is about relationship; because from the start humans made it obvious that we weren't going to be willing, or able, to follow those rules, but, God loved all of us, too much, to lose us! The blood of the Cross is STRONG, my friends!

"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."  John 3:16

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGHtz9DKqk8

**Psalm 139:16 "Your eyes saw me when I was only a fetus. Every day [of my life] was recorded in your book before one of them had taken place."  (God's Word Translation)