Dance and Body Image: Katie’s Journey
- Hungry 2Move
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read

Dance, for me, was a really positive experience—from when I started at age 4, until aged 18 when I left my local dance school to study dance at university. On initial reflection, I would say that I had no issues around my own body image in dance until this point.
I was one of the lucky ones who maintained a pretty healthy body image until about age 18, which is rare as those puberty years can be pretty rough on your sense of self.
However, I am very aware that I have always been in a ‘smaller’ body and also did not train in a vocational school, which I have no doubt protected me from a lot of harm. Still, looking back, I’ve realised there were in fact lots of moments that could have turned my love of dance into something much more negative.
In Grade 1 (around age 7), we had to wear light blue leotards with the classic ballet belt that sits around your middle. I really remember hating this—it felt like it chopped me in half. I felt uncomfortable wearing it and compared how much it dug into me versus the other dancers. A comparison no 7-year-old should be making! But as a kid in a naturally slim body, this comparison didn't have as big of an impact as it could have. If anything, it reinforced the fact that I did 'fit in' as a dancer.
Fast forward to puberty and being advised not to wear bras with certain leotards. I can understand the reasoning behind examiners wanting a clean aesthetic, but dancing with no support can not only cause damage and be painful, but also be embarrassing at an age when our bodies are changing. Wearing something so tight-fitting with no support can just make any insecurities worse - as well as exclude girls who develop bigger breasts earlier on.
As I got older, I do remember comparing myself to other dancers. It was never done maliciously, or even negatively. I think it was more observational—I mean, when most lessons are done in front of a mirror, it's hard not to? That’s something else that makes growing up in the dance world harder—you are constantly in front of mirrors, in tight clothing, next to girls around your age and developing differently. Comparison is going to happen.

There were also a few completely harmless comments that I received growing up (which, admittedly, are nothing compared to what a lot of dancers receive), but I do think they had a lasting effect on me.
I remember when I moved from primary to secondary school overhearing a comment at dance that I’d “lengthened out” - I took that to mean I was a bit chubby before.
I also remember comments about my legs and not having to “suck in” when in first position because they already touched. This was actually meant in a positive way, my legs were in the right position — but having bigger legs has always been a hang-up of mine, maybe this was where it came from? I also remember lots of comments on my body in general. Often they weren’t negative, but I do believe even positive comments eventually had a bit of a negative effect. By commenting on someone's body you're inherently telling them what the 'right' or 'wrong' way to look is.
What They Say | What We Hear |
'You've lengthened out' | 'You were too fat before' |
'Suck in and pull up' | 'You need to get rid of your stomach fat' |
'Beautiful lines' | 'Some lines aren't beautiful' |
When I started uni, I put on weight in my first year (just enjoying myself). However, this—combined with standing in front of mirrors every day in tight clothing—wasn’t a great combo. I had gone from a body that I felt quite comfortable in and that regularly got compliments, to one that I hated—and that didn’t get the same compliments. I can’t blame my university lecturers, as I really believe they had a great awareness of body image within dance settings. We were encouraged to wear clothing we were comfortable in and would only really wear leotards for ballet. I also remember one of our first wellbeing talks, where our lecturer said something along the lines of, “We don’t all need abs—cake is too nice!”. And when I had lost some weight in my second year due to disordered eating, my lecturer encouraged me to eat more. But even with this positive reinforcement, the constant comparison was hard and had a massive effect on me.
I think for me, identity and lack of control played a big role in developing an unhealthy relationship with food and exercise. I had always been the dancer out of my group of friends, and now I was surrounded by dancers. I’d always been slim, and now I didn’t feel like I was. I was away from home and all I knew, and I felt like I’d lost myself. Who was I if not the the dancer of the group? Food, exercise, and shrinking my body became my focus and purpose.
I had no brain space for anything else. I had very little energy to dance and lost all confidence in myself.

This didn’t change until I started looking into the anti-diet movement and educating myself on diet culture. I focused my dissertation on Nutrition for Dancers, which opened my eyes to how much food we should really be eating (a lot more than I thought). It made me realise carbs weren’t the enemy, but actually our best source of energy. It also made me realise there is very little guidance around nutrition for dancers. For athletes and specific sports, there’s lots—but not for dancers. This needs to change.
As you can tell, I don’t think dancing was the reason I developed unhealthy attitudes to food and exercise—but I don’t think it helped. I am grateful to have not been affected by dance training to the level that some people have. But even at a local dance school level, and on a course that really was quite forward-thinking in terms of body image, I was still affected.
One thing I strongly believe needs to be implemented within all types of dance training is more awareness around how food is fuel and does not need to be restricted, how eating certain foods (and enough of them) can actually enhance our performance! I also believe that education around supplementary strength training that can be done outside of dancing to support fitness, bone health, muscles, joints, and the future health of the dancer is essential—alongside an emphasis on the importance of rest.
We want a future of happy, healthy dancers—not dancers stuck in disordered eating, poor body image, and ill health.
Written by Katie Evans

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