When I first stepped into the world of male stripping, I had no idea just how much it would change my life. What began as a fun opportunity to make extra cash topless bartending quickly turned into a full-fledged journey into the art of the striptease—one filled with wild stories, personal growth, and a whole lot of nerve-wracking firsts.

It all started in 2003 when I moved into a silo and said yes to an offer from my modeling agent: bartending shirtless at private parties. That gig led to a job bartending at a bar on Davie Street in Vancouver, where I met a male dancer who invited me to a ladies’ night. Watching him light up the stage with his confidence and charisma was mesmerizing, and I knew I wanted to give it a try.

But nothing could have prepared me for my first time.

I can still picture myself downstairs in the basement of the strip club, the sound of screaming and laughter pouring down from upstairs as the first dancer took the stage. My heart raced, and I felt like a gladiator waiting in a dungeon holding cell before being thrown to the lions. My nervousness was at an all-time high, made worse by the fact that I was wearing a custom sailor costume.

The outfit itself had an ironic twist: it was made by Dorothy, a friend of my mom’s. I had asked her to sew it for me as something to “model in” during fashion shows—innocent enough, right? But now here I was, about to strip it off in front of a room full of wild women. The leap from modeling to stripping was next level, and my nerves got the better of me.

While getting ready, I was so flustered that I accidentally finished while putting on my cock ring. Then, I hit the stage, adrenaline pumping and confidence shaky. The 18-minute set felt like a lifetime, and by the end, the DJ had to remind me to actually strip.

That night was messy, awkward, and unforgettable, but it was also the start of something incredible. I dedicated myself to learning the craft, practicing endlessly, and channeling the confidence I saw in the dancers who inspired me. By 2004, I was performing part-time and embracing the adrenaline rush that came with it.

Over the next 10 years, I performed across BC and Canada, sharing tiny hotel rooms with fellow dancers, forming lifelong bonds, and discovering a sense of community that I never expected. My first mentor, Diamond, taught me the ropes—both on stage and off. I’ll never forget his eccentric habit of drowning every meal, even salad, in ketchup. Together, we performed for thousands of screaming women, sharing unforgettable nights and outrageous road trips.

For years, I kept my nightlife career a secret from most of my family, confiding only in my younger sisters. I craved someone to share the excitement with, but I also wanted to protect this bold, new side of myself.

Stripping gave me more than just a paycheck. It taught me confidence, self-expression, and the power of vulnerability. Each performance felt like stepping into the arena—both thrilling and terrifying. And as I stripped off the layers of fabric, I found myself shedding insecurities, too.

Want to hear more about my journey or explore how art and performance collide? Stick around—there’s so much more to share.