I see the same questions in internet constantly. What body type do I need? Do I need implants? How scary is the audition? What heels should I buy?

I'm not going to tell you those questions are stupid — I had versions of them too. But after four years working across Russia, Europe, and the US, I can tell you they're the wrong starting point. And starting with the wrong questions is exactly how people walk into this industry underprepared.

So here's what I actually wish someone had told me.

The audition is the least scary part. 

Clubs need dancers. That is their entire business model. They're not sitting there hoping to reject you — they're hoping you walk in and you're good to go. The audition anxiety is almost entirely self-generated. Show up, move, be professional. That's it.

Rejection on shift is a completely different animal. 

This is what nobody prepares you for. You can walk up to twenty people in one night and hear no twenty times. Sometimes politely, sometimes not at all — they just look through you.You could spend forty minutes with a guest, building real rapport — and then watch him walk into the VIP with someone who arrived ten minutes ago.

None of it is personal. Mathematically, it cannot be personal — you don't know these people. But if you haven't built a solid psychological foundation before you start, it will feel personal every single time. And it accumulates. I watched genuinely strong people fall apart over this — not because they were weak, but because they were blindsided by the volume of it.

What helped me: I'd already spent years studying psychology and applying it to myself specifically. I knew my patterns. I knew where I was fragile and where I wasn't. I knew how to reset between approaches. That's not something you can fake or shortcut — you actually have to do the internal work before you walk in.

The competitive environment is real and it can get ugly. 

Other dancers will test you, especially when you're new. Some genuinely want to help — I had colleagues who were kind and generous and I'm still grateful for them. But some will mess with your head deliberately, especially if they see you as competition. Knowing this in advance means you don't take it personally and you don't get destabilised by it. It's just part of the landscape.

The money moves fast. That's a trap as much as it's a benefit. 

Good nights feel insane. You walk out with more cash than you'd make in a month at a regular job and the feeling is genuinely intoxicating. And everyone around you is spending — on outfits, on going out, on things that feel completely normal in that context. The lifestyle has real gravitational pull.

I'm not saying don't enjoy it. I'm saying: have a plan for the money before you make it. Know what you're saving for, what you're building toward.The people I saw lose the most weren't reckless idiots — they just had no plan for the money, and it disappeared as fast as it came.

Physical and psychological safety are not the same thing and you need both. 

Physical safety: learn your club's rules, know the layout, know who the security is and whether they're actually on your side. Trust your gut about guests — if something feels wrong it probably is. Have a system for getting home safely.

Psychological safety: know your limits before you're in the moment, not during. It is much harder to hold a boundary under social pressure in a loud club at 4 am when you're tired and the guest is pushing, if you haven't already decided clearly where that line is. Decide in advance. It sounds obvious. It isn't.

The systems are completely different depending on where you work. 

Russia, Europe, and the US operate on entirely different models — different pay structures, different rules about what you owe the club, different norms around accommodation, different levels of control over your schedule. What's standard in one country would be considered exploitative in another. If you're planning to work internationally, research the specific system before you commit to anything.

I broke down the actual numbers by country — income ranges, house fees, mandatory costs, how tips work — inside the course.

What actually prepares you: 

Knowing why you want this. Not philosophically — practically. What are you there for? What are you building? Because the industry will test that answer repeatedly and you need it to be solid.

Psychological groundwork. Understanding yourself, your patterns, your limits.

Safety — both kinds.

Understanding the business model of the specific club and country you're entering.

And then — yes — the heels, the costumes, the pole work. That stuff matters. Just not first.

If you want the full preparation before you start — that's what The Key Project is for.