People often assume that dance training is at odds with the ideals of body positivity. I can understand why – at the professional level, dance has a longstanding reputation of requiring a very narrow ideal body shape and size and dance class can often focus on physical shortcomings. That said, I am a dance teacher, and I believe in the power of body positivity. I believe in its power to inspire young people and to train better, stronger dancers.

After giving birth to her first child, tennis star Serena Williams has posted a letter to her mother publicly on the social platform Reddit. In the letter, Williams writes about the admiration she holds towards her mother now that she has become a mother herself. 

August generally marks the start of school, back to hectic schedules and anticipation of what the new year might bring. To some this may bring about memories of triumphs; however, for others it could serve as a reminder of how far is left on their journey. 

Control.

We all want control.

Control over our lives, finances, friends, family, day-to-day tasks.

Control begins with us, with our bodies.

When everything else in our life is out of control, we seek control of our body.

My addiction to control began in 2014.

Training for a marathon is exhausting. 

Today’s #NEDAchat will be focusing on eating disorders and body image in the dance community. We have an incredible panel lined up, and we wanted to introduce you to them. Read on to see who they are and what they are doing to tackle this discussion in the dance community.

I have always been entranced by gymnasts: they are agile and strong, graceful and confident, fluid and fierce. Come the summer Olympics, I am always eager to see the gymnasts tumble, flip, twirl, and seemingly defy gravity. As a dancer, I understand that more work goes into making a routine look effortless, and I also know that what we see in a performance isn’t the whole story. Gymnasts are athletes and artists, and their bodies are their instrument.

I remember the magic of my first cross-country season back in 7th grade. I remember how running felt more like playing. How I literally laughed as I ran, because I was having so much fun. How races were adventures between me and my teammates. 

I remember so clearly, because this free-spirited joy in running now feels elusive. In high school, the pressure to perform in order to get recognized by college coaches is high. Once in college, the competition is fierce, sometimes even amongst teammates. Perhaps most insidious is the underlying belief that thin = fast.

For some, this may come as a surprise, but for the majority of my teen years, I was consumed by an eating disorder. It has been difficult for me to speak about it openly because I kept it a secret for so long. 

It seems as though I’ve been dancing almost as long as I could talk. I can still remember the days of pink tutus and ribbon-tied tap shoes. The unmistakable smell of hairspray on show days, and the adrenaline rush that a successful performance always resulted in.

Never did I think, however, that one day dance could be just as much a part of my voice as my vocal chords. Nor did I imagine that dance would become one of the ways I could share my experience about having an eating disorder with hundreds, even thousands of people.