Body Image in Dance: The Good, The Hard, and The Healing

Written By Kate Rice

TRIGGER WARNING: mention of disordered eating

When asked to write a blog on my experience with dance and body image - I was like, how on earth do I stop myself yapping forever about this. There is just so much to say, positive and negative. So here is a not-so-short, but also not-so-long overview of some of my experience (because everything is just so multi-faceted and complex). I hope for some, it makes you feel less alone in your worries and concerns, and for others, if none of it resonates with you - I can assure you that I am not the only one with experiences like this, and so I hope it allows you to approach others with understanding of their personal experiences.

I can’t even remember what age I began dancing, it was a part of my childhood identity for as long as I can remember. From cute blue capped sleeve leotards, spotted blue ballet skirts, flapper dresses, hoodies and trackie bottoms to hotpants and crop tops, the clothes I have danced in have been extremely varied. I was lucky enough to have the kindest dance teacher throughout most of my dance training growing up, who did not ever comment on my size or tell me I needed to look a certain way, but instead encouraged our strengths, and our performance qualities, and always ensured that we were comfortable in costumes (e.g. able to wear bra’s if we wanted, option for full or cropped tops, permission given for shorts under dresses etc). For this I am extremely grateful, however, this still didn’t stop me from forming a negative perception of my body image in dance. External teachers, auditioning panels, dance tv shows and social media promoted a certain ‘look’ of a dancer's body, with comments by adults and fellow dancers being made complimenting other dancers' elegance, long lean legs, flat stomachs, flatter chests and petite frames. Some were more direct, such as: comments on needing to ‘look better’ in my leotard; or if I/we carried on working hard we too would maybe be able to get that ‘beautiful dancers physique’; or whispered queries and eye rolls from individuals when someone says they’re a dancer but are larger bodied. Immediately, when you see compliments being given out to some, and sly insults to yourself and others, as a child seeking approval in the world you are so passionate about, your brain tells you to conform, that there is an easy way to gain this approval, and it is to change your body. On the flip side of this, I remember a drama teacher saying how long and slim my legs looked in a show when I was around 12 years old, and that they wished they had legs like this - this was intended as a compliment - however for some reason, it has just meant that as my body has changed with age, I am comparing my now proportionally shorter and wider legs, as being less aesthetically pleasing.

I have always been a lover of any physical activity, and therefore have always been fairly muscular, this has led me perceiving myself to be broad shouldered, having larger thighs, no lean abs, bigger arms and a chest too large to look elegant in ballet, modern and tap uniforms. However, ask any of my childhood friends, and they perceive me to have always been ‘slim and athletic’. I found myself in a cycle of comparison, looking at the beautiful dancers in my classes and online, analysing their bodies and wanting to be able to look the way they did. Exam grades and compliments from friends couldn’t sway my view of this - THIS was how to make it as a dancer. This led to me reducing the amount I ate, subsequently binging due to extreme hunger, and purging out of guilt on a regular basis. I ended up never physically recovering from the dance and exercise I was doing due to lack of nutrition, and feeling mentally fatigued. 

My young brain couldn’t understand how dance and performing could both bring me so much joy, and escape from other life stresses, but also contribute to such negative self perceptions. I’d never feel as alive as when dancing, music blaring, ultimate physical and mental freedom - but then I’d see pictures, or videos of my body and instead of analysing the dancing, it would be an analysis of stomach fat, leg width, boob size etc. The ironic thing is, when I was feeling most self conscious of my body, due to the clothes being worn etc, my dancing would be stiffer, awkward, less technical and performance qualities would be worse - why? I was self conscious, I couldn’t focus or relax, I wasn’t feeling the music, I wasn’t dancing ‘all out’. 

This became increasingly challenging throughout puberty, a complicated time for anyone, young bodies changing in such unfamiliar ways, and so individually - each having slightly different shapes and sizes. I got introduced to contemporary dance later in my teenage years and loved the freedom of movement, the less strict uniform, and openness to personal interpretation. I felt a lot more comfortable not having to conform to the sleek and disciplined lines of ballet dancers, valuing ballet’s foundational training and place, but feeling unaligned to it personally as a dance style. Contemporary felt like a saving grace for my relationship with dance, reintroducing the pure joy to dance for me. However, even in contemporary dance I still thought there was a ‘perfect’ body needed to be a professional- and even though arguably, I wasn’t far off having this body, it is not how I perceived it.

As I started dance training in a higher education dance and musical theatre setting, training in all dance styles was important, and as I was struggling with my mental health, a couple of ‘minor’ comments from ballet teachers, further self-comparison and self-perceived competition amongst peers led me to step away from dance - I told myself I didn’t have the capabilities and didn’t fit into the box required, and had lost the joy in dancing, unable to dance without feeling inadequate and filled with self-hate. I stopped dancing and dropped out of dance school telling myself I felt I wanted to pursue something else instead. I reapplied and went to university to study Creative Advertising, living for being able to boogie around my room or in clubs, but stayed away from formal dance classes. I continued to have body image problems throughout my twenties, I don’t believe this was solely dance related; social media, advertising, beauty standards and a long list of western cultural norms really contribute to how we perceive ourselves and create our own opinions on how we ‘should look’. 

For years I tried being a gym gal, searching for that joy in movement I had in dance - but I did not feel I ever achieved the fitness image I wanted, despite looking back at photos now and being like ‘Kate, you were jacked’. Exercise was mental relief, but also physical punishment, food was restrictive, earnt and guilt ridden. About a year and a half ago, someone said to me about wanting their fitness and strength to be functional, that they trained not to look a certain way, but to enhance their hobby, prevent injury and to look after their long term health so that they could go on doing their hobby until beautifully old and wrinkly. For some reason, this felt mind blowing to me. The idea that I would be exercising in order to be healthy and to aid my hobbies, rather than to look a certain way was a massive perspective shift - which may sound stupid and like common sense to some of you. If my body may change as a result, then fine, but this wasn’t the goal. The goal was to be able to unwind after a day of stress, to move and take part in activities with friends, to socialise and to be able to be strong in a functional way for longevity in the activities I want to love well into old age. 

I started searching for a feeling, rather than an image in the activities I did.

I started climbing, and exercise at the climbing wall was about community, and encouragement, and time after time my peers showed me that technique, rather than body composition, is what will get us up the climbing wall. I started getting outside more. Exercise outdoors was about the rush of excitement when you take in that good view, or when you have pub grub at the end of a rainy cold walk - not the look of the body that got me up there. And finally, I started dancing again, yes, technically I am broader than before and a larger clothes size - however, I am also the strongest I have been physically and mentally (turns out fuelling your body, balanced hormones and reduced stress really help muscular recovery - who knew), as well as being the most relaxed I have been whilst dancing. I personally believe that when you can ‘let go’, ‘relax’ and put self-conscious feelings to the side, it gives you the space to refine technique, flow through movement and translate your joy through dancing, to others. This has enabled me to try new dance styles and embrace getting things wrong - and subsequently actually improve a lot of aspects of my dancing.

Now, it isn’t a pure ‘happy ending’ story, life ain’t always that simple - I still find myself constantly analysing my own body, what it looks like in clothes, in the mirror and looking at other dancers and athletes wishing I was more like them, but then I go to dance, in clothes I am comfortable in, practice technique, move with friends and dance all out to blaring tunes, and leave feeling a little more whole.

Whenever I find myself comparing my body, I try to remind myself of the things my body can do.

It literally keeps me alive every day, it carries me to my friends house for dinner, it holds me up at gigs so I can scream at the top of my lungs, it allows me to carry my massive bag with me everywhere so that I never have to organise my everyday belongings, and it allows me to move and exercise. I do still have goals for both dancing and other sports - but these are not body image focussed - I want to be stronger and fitter cardiovascularly to keep me dancing and climbing for longer, to keep me working for longer (I do some work at a climbing wall and let me tell ya, carrying boxes of climbing holds is a heavy task), I want to train agility and plyometrics to aid technique and learn new skills etc etc etc - if these change the way my body looks then cool - if they don’t, that’s also cool. I’m lucky to see so many different body compositions amongst incredible dancers I know, reminding me that comparison really is the cliche, ‘thief of joy’, and one size literally does not fit all. 

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Written By Kate Rice