Surviving Toxic Dance Culture

I just guested on my first podcast, A Cuppa Tea with Katy, and let me tell you, it was friggin' nerve-racking! I barely slept the night before, tossing and turning over the thought of speaking out loud about my experiences in competitive dance - 24 years of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Me on a beach in Rarotonga, Cook Islands on a dance tour in 2011.

I could already feel myself dissociating, my mind numbing out, my body shutting down. I knew if I started rehearsing what I was going to say, my head would spin and my body would go into flight. First, sweaty palms. Then, my upper abs lock up, making it hard to take a deep breath. My throat would tighten, and I’d stumble over my words. Perfectionism commands me like a drill sergeant, insisting on precision and warning of punishment and the doom of failure for any mistakes.

Sipping my well-needed coffee, I felt the caffeine kick me into gear and noticed the jitters were pressing on my nerves. I jogged in place, mobilizing the adrenaline while shaking it out through my hands. I gingerly walked over to my desk, staring at the computer screen, I took a deep breath and pressed the power button. Fuck performing...alas, my inner rebel has risen! (along with its middle finger) Trusting its solid history of standing up to authority when necessary, I embraced it...I’ll just be me. That’s way less pressure.

This internal permission allowed my abdominal muscles to loosen - shit, why aren't my abs ripped by now!? I giggled at myself, humour offering a welcome retreat from the often pervasive critical thoughts about my body. I felt my feet on the ground, scanned my body from toes to crown, and whispered, Remember? You're flawesome! That word always makes me smile.

As Zoom connected, my ADHD brain clicked into hyper-focus, present and alert. I looked at Katy curiously. What’s she going to ask? How deep do I share? Will I get in trouble? I lay my hand on my belly and soothed my inner child by reminding myself I'm here now, not back in the dance studio, it's okay...

Then, a warm and inviting voice came over my speaker and greeted me with a genuine smile, putting me even more at ease. For the first time ever, I began to publicly tell my story.

My wisdom emerged to softly reassure me, It is time.

Click below to learn about the effects of long-term toxic dance culture, emotional abuse, trauma bonds, and body image issues (and how I began my healing)

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