Dancing on Empty

As a young dancer I believed that a smaller physique would meet industry expectations and  aesthetically improve my technical performance. My recovery journey has helped me un-learn so many unhealthy beliefs and discover a new balanced approach to both life and training.

From a young age, I was dancing recreationally, enjoying free creative movement and expressing my emotions when I couldn’t voice them. I looked to dance as an escape from my own world. The presence of dance grew as my passion flourished and I found success, transitioning from recreation to training for events, shows and competitions.

Weekly conditioning was added to my timetable, I found I struggled to keep up with peers as I regularly experienced muscle pain. Often, I felt a lack of energy, light headed and dizzy. 

I thought this was due to a lack of strength and commitment labelling myself as weak and unworthy.

Appointments at the doctors led to suggestions of fatigue and prescriptions of folic acid, but little clinical concern. This dismissal by medical professionals made me question the reality of my symptoms. 

I continued to train at home over the 2020 pandemic, but the change in class dynamics exacerbated my struggles. I felt physically drained from the effort of trying to recover before the next class and mentally tired from chasing perfection.

I told myself I was young and should be full of energy, so I labelled everything as a mental challenge to push through.

Dance was everything I had ever known so once we were able to return to in-person classes, I returned with greater discipline and my training programme increased to 20 hours a week whilst attending full time education. 

My negative beliefs made me question if my body was the right shape and size to dance professionally.

Rising pressure 

I entered pre-professional vocational training aged sixteen in a rush of nerves and excitement. The first term involved commuting over two hours daily whilst juggling long training hours. I have no memory of those first 3 months. I worked hard but the exhaustion took over and I became sleep deprived.

I found accommodation locally and training continued, I witnessed meaningful improvements in my technique and overall enjoyment for dance, I felt the discipline was 'paying off'. I felt isolated as the only student in my year group who lived away from home, but I pushed into my second year of training.

With the next show approaching, I developed a bone structural injury, and continued to battle increasing pressure. I held expectations of myself that I couldn’t meet and the seemingly relentless demands led to me counting down the days until the show was over. 

University audition season arrived and the pressure rose. I secured places for two dance and musical theatre degree courses but reached complete burnout and for the first time ever missed an entire week of college. 

Whilst at my third audition, I partially dislocated my shoulder but didn’t tell anyone just in case the offers were withdrawn. I had a minor subacromial subdeltoid bursitis after a subluxation which took over 12 weeks to recover. I focused on my rehab physio and doubled down on training in whatever way I could as I applied more pressure in the face of competition.

Throughout the next show season, I experienced spiking and crashing heart rates causing faints. Investigations for heart problems all came back “normal” and I felt completely lost as I didn’t have an explanation.

Pleased to be returning to the same dance school for my degree, I soon developed a chest infection which required a month off.  I believed missing training would mean I would need to ‘catch up’ with peers and my intake would need to be restricted. 

A teacher had noticed that “the light had left my eyes” and her observation felt conflicting. I knew I felt unwell but thought I was being a self-sufficient and proactive dancer. 

I continued in survival mode suffering with physical pain, no emotions, no menstrual cycle, distancing myself and a consistent lack of sleep and rest. 

Despite a show approaching, I felt I couldn’t walk away after what I had put myself through to get this far. Following the show run, I returned home and rapidly declined as I had expended every resource in my body.

Stepping away 

I am now in recovery, enjoying movement again and returning to University in September.

I sought help and have been working with a nutritionist, dance specific body image and ED coach, dance physio and consultants specialising in REDs. They have helped me understand that my fuelling did not increase in line with greater training demands.

When asked who I was outside of dance, I didn’t have an answer. 

Through working with these specialists I have been able to un-learn many unhealthy beliefs and discover a new approach to both life and training. They helped me see I was stuck in a cycle of thinking that living and breathing dance made me more committed and would lead to success. 

Stepping away from dance has allowed me to understand the power of rest and recovery and to prioritise life balance.  

As I continue my recovery from REDs, I’m looking forward to a healthier future where I can enjoy the freedom of creativity, movement, and dance in a sustainable way as part of my life, and not my whole life.