Reclaiming the Stage: How Dance Led Me to Recovery and Mentorship
At six years old, I found myself staring at my body in the never-ending wall of taunting mirrors. Was this a nightmare? No, it was my favorite hobby—dance—accompanied by a mental setback that would shape much of my life.
As a child, I was bubbly, friendly, and enthusiastic about almost everything—except when it came time to face the mirror while getting ready for school each morning. But no one knew. I wore a facade of loving food, hiding my insecurities and shielding my family from worry. With a supportive and loving family, I couldn’t bring myself to reveal the turmoil inside me. They would have likely brushed it off as “you’re healthy.” In fourth grade, I even tried to go vegetarian so that I’d have an excuse to restrict meat—it lasted all of two weeks.
As my body began to change and my mind followed, I spiraled into a dark place. The breaking point came one day in eighth grade when I had a panic attack over a chicken caesar salad wrap. If my struggles hadn’t been apparent to my family before, they certainly were after they witnessed me in tears over mayonnaise. Even in the midst of unhealthy habits, a small part of me knew that things had gone too far.
My mom blamed it on dance. She was furious and threatened to pull me out if I didn’t seek help. I pleaded, cried, and begged her to let me continue. Eventually, she agreed on the condition that I see a therapist and a nutritionist.
While dance was a contributing factor—with all those hours spent in the studio, staring and critiquing everything I disliked about myself—I knew deep down that my insecurities ran deeper. That little nagging voice in my head wouldn’t go away unless I finally addressed my issues. So, my mom and I made a deal.
High school marked the beginning of my recovery journey. I met weekly with my therapist and nutritionist, continued dancing (eventually mustering the courage to compete in my first solo), and applied for a mentorship program at my studio. This program allowed older competitive dancers like me to assist younger dancers in their classes, attend their competitions, and support them in every aspect of their dance journey. I hadn’t had anything like this when I was younger, and I wanted to help these girls navigate not only dance but also girlhood and life.
Struggling silently was the worst part. I felt like I had nobody to talk to about my insecurities and fears. Now, as a mentor, I encourage these young dancers to open up and share their feelings, assuring them that they don’t have to carry their burdens alone. I want them to know that it's okay to ask for help, to be vulnerable, and to prioritize their mental health over any external pressures.
Through my involvement with Project HEAL and my role as a dance mentor, I am committed to changing the narrative for the next generation. I strive to create an environment where young girls feel empowered to voice their feelings about their bodies and seek the support they need. My hope is that by sharing my story, I can inspire others to break the silence and normalize discussions about body image and mental health.
To anyone reading this who is struggling, know that you are not alone. There is strength in vulnerability, and there is hope in recovery. Whether it’s dance, school, or another passion, your worth is not determined by how you look but by who you are and how you treat yourself and others. I encourage you to speak up, seek help, and join the mission to raise awareness and support those affected by eating disorders. Together, we can create a world where everyone feels seen, heard, and supported.
