Francesca Prini: From Cystic Fibrosis to Pole Sport World Champion (World Record)

What it felt like to step on the world stage in Buenos Aires

Francesca, your win at the Pole Sport World Championships in Buenos Aires was historic. What did you feel, and what was your first thought?

Representing Italy on the world stage was already incredibly emotional. I prepared so much: I visualized the moment I would perform almost every day, and I trained both body and mind intensely for more than a year.

Thinking back to the exact moment I stepped on stage, I remember feeling a powerful energy running through my whole body. I couldn’t wait to show everyone—and especially myself—the result of my work. Even with adrenaline through the roof, I managed not to be afraid and to stay focused on my goal: to do everything well, exactly as I had planned and choreographed, with the aim of moving and transporting anyone watching into my story.

As soon as the music started, I felt strong—fully in control of my body and my thoughts—and I knew I could do it. My knees felt steadier than usual, and I managed to keep away intrusive thoughts, which are often what cause even strong athletes to fail.

I think that clarity is what helped me win the world title, because it allowed me to fully express what I wanted to tell through my piece.

During the awards, I didn’t know what to expect. I felt I had given everything, but I hadn’t watched all the other athletes. And as we know, Artistic Pole includes a degree of subjectivity that can’t be completely removed from judging.

So until they announced it, I definitely didn’t think I would win gold—plus a new world record.

With the medal around my neck and the Italian flag in my hands, my first thought was my father. I felt him close to me throughout all the days in Buenos Aires. It was as if, in that moment, I could hug him one more time. After all, the entire piece is dedicated to him, and it was the way I chose to represent my journey of accepting his absence.

From dance and music to Pole Sport: Francesca’s path to competition

Where did your passion for pole come from? How did you get into it, and when did you realize it would become a fundamental part of your life?

I first approached pole dance in spring 2014. Since childhood I’ve always lived in the world of art: I studied dance, music, and vocal technique for more than 20 years.

Before working seriously in pole, I worked as a singer and vocal coach. I wrote an album, played important concerts with my last band, and had the opportunity to perform on stage as a vocalist. After high school, I also studied Art History at the University of Florence.

Sport and art have always been central to my everyday life. My family has always been very supportive of my athletic and artistic path: my father was a super creative man, and my grandfather—his father—was a great football player, known for winning Fiorentina’s first league title.

There wasn’t a single event that brought me to pole. For me, pole is an evolutionary step in my experience, both human and artistic. When I chose to try this discipline, I felt the need to discover something more about myself.

But I didn’t immediately understand that pole would become the center of my life and my days. I started to realize it only at the end of 2016, when I began teaching. Every time I walked into the studio, I felt fulfilled and part of something bigger—like I was helping give so many people a goal in just a few hours of activity.

Living with cystic fibrosis: turning limits into strength

You said “limits are made to be overcome.” You’ve lived with cystic fibrosis since birth—probably the biggest limit you’ve had to face in your career. What helped you achieve such extraordinary results?

Definitely my family, without any doubt—through their support and everything they taught me.

When I was little, I sometimes felt physically disadvantaged compared to other kids. I noticed it, for example, when we ran around the schoolyard during recess. But my parents always talked openly about my health issues from when I was very small. They made me feel even more special, like a character in a fantasy story. They made me believe I had superpowers that would help me overcome anything.

The greatest gift they gave me was infinite possibilities. And among them, the most important for me was the ability to choose. Always.

So I grew up with this myth of “special little Francesca” who would somehow overcome everything. And I think I chose this life and this competitive path to keep feeling like a heroine—to keep proving to myself and to them that yes, I could do it.

Sometimes I wonder what pole dance would have been like for me without cystic fibrosis. I tell myself that physically I would have been much less limited and maybe I could do many more things (like not being completely out of breath after a four-minute routine). But another part of me says that this battle is exactly what turned me into the warrior I am.

For me, sport is truly therapy: it’s respiratory physiotherapy, so it helps my sick lungs. And it’s also therapeutic psychologically.

Body acceptance, performance, and mental focus

In an Instagram post you wrote: “Now, finally, I love my body with all of myself, for what it allows me to feel, do, and experience.” Did pole help you accept your body?

I struggled for many years with eating disorders, of different kinds. Pole helped me accept my body.

What makes this discipline so special and loved by so many is that the goal isn’t purely physical or aesthetic—it’s performative. Even people who initially start pole to improve their appearance often end up falling in love with it so deeply that body shape becomes a secondary goal compared to nailing tricks and the “hunger” to conquer new ones.

Because it’s a demanding discipline, your body inevitably changes when you train consistently and with dedication. But that isn’t the primary focus.

What I love most about pole is how it helps anyone who commits to it love their body for what it can do.

Thanks to pole, today I can perceive my body as a special vessel, capable of so much. I know it’s a wonderful means to have experiences, discover the world, have fun, and feel all kinds of emotions and sensations—but it’s not the ultimate goal.

Training, coaching, and recovery: how to balance it all

Between training, work, running three locations of Florence Pole Dance Studio, teaching and strength coaching, your illness, and everyday life—how do you manage it all? Any secret you want to share?

I don’t have big secrets. I think the driving force is the immense passion I live pole—and life in general—with, despite everything.

Of course, it’s not always sunshine and roses. Dark moments—deeply dark moments—happen, and they’ve happened to me. I also had to dedicate time to my mental health, not only my physical health, in order to make everything work.

The truth is that sometimes, to take care of my mind (as well as my body), I had to pause this “beautiful machine” made of commitments, responsibilities, competitive preparation, Florence Pole Dance Studio, workshops, dogs, and family.

Over time I understood that carving out time to be with myself is precious—and essential—for my mental health and for keeping everything in balance.

I need calm and silence around me. I need to turn off the spotlight that is often pointed at me (and I’m grateful for it—don’t get me wrong, I chose it!).

Also, outside of classes, competitions, and events, I’m very solitary. You wouldn’t guess it, but I’m quite introverted and I spend a lot of time alone creating, playing music, and dancing. I don’t love parties, frequent nights out, crowded places, and noise—not anymore.

How to find motivation again

What do you do when you feel demotivated or tired, to get your energy back?

Often, to recharge, I go back to the origins. Either I grab a keyboard and a microphone and sing, or I put on socks, play good music, and dance.

I remove the poles from the studio and dance using the floor space—often underestimated by us polers!

Alternatively, I write. This year I filled six notebooks and three diaries. I write how I feel, what I expect from the months ahead. I write thoughts, pretending they might sound like poems.

I try to remember—and write down—the lessons I received, especially from my father. Or I write new ideas for new choreographies.

A message to young athletes: find your way, stay true to yourself

After your win, you were invited to a middle school to talk about your journey. What’s the most important message you want to share with young people?

By sharing my experience—my successes and my challenges—what I want young people to understand is that, in the end, what truly matters is to resist and stay true to ourselves.

I mean: find “the way,” “the road,” your own road—while respecting others, of course. The opposite of giving up is not “trying again,” it’s refusing to be crushed.

The other message is that all of us—regardless of our body, our social background, or our past—are full of resources, full of possibilities. Even when we can’t see them, they exist. They’re inside us.

We all have the superpower to find the key that opens any door.

What Francesca’s story teaches the Pole community

Francesca Prini’s story reminds us that even when the road feels steep, determination and passion can turn every limit into a new strength. Her journey goes beyond the title and the record: it’s an invitation to believe in yourself, listen to your body, and never give up—whatever challenge you’re facing.