my not-dancer body

I was a dancer once.

I've mostly given up that title for myself these days, and I call myself an actress/singer who can dance, but I'm not a dancer anymore. At any rate, I have always been a part of that world where body image is so present. It's been an interesting, difficult, and defensive journey.

I studied ballet pretty seriously until the end of sixth grade when I started out as a competitive Irish dancer. I craved an Irish dancer body-- though Riverdancer Jean Butler helped to pave the way for a tall, willowy, balletic figure in Irish dance, the girls I admired in my school and at competitions were built more like soccer players: athletic, sturdy, powerful. I thrived in that world and was successful until high school, when I discovered acting.

I've always more or less known my "place" onstage. Getting cast as an "adult" and not as a "child" as a freshman indicated to me that I didn't look or sound like a kid next to some of my daintier peers, and I've always had a knack for comedy, frequently landing me in supporting roles. The moms and the funny maids don't have to be thin and beautiful. I started to develop a feeling of complacency in my appearance, smiling at figures like Claire Danes but not exactly motivated enough to look like her.

In college I picked up dancing again more seriously. I was cast on the second-tier international folk dance team and spent my summer touring Utah and the Midwest. My adviser had "advised" me to get into better shape, but didn't keep me from progressing. I dropped to a size 6 that summer without doing a conscious thing about it, and kept the weight off for fall semester. I look at pictures of myself and hardly recognize the comparatively thin face. I didn't feel super thin. I hadn't worked for it. Again, complacent.

Early spring of 2006 I was diagnosed with Graves disease, a hyperthyroid condition that was affecting my sleeping patterns, my metabolism, the health of my eyes, ability to concentrate, emotions, and learning. Dropped out of school, developed a regulated life pattern, and put on a lot of weight that summer. When I tried to return to folk dance in the fall, I was not reassigned to a team, and my instructor discussed with a friend of mine (not me, mind you) my need to lose 20 lbs before I would be reconsidered.

I struggled with self confidence, but didn't particularly do much to lose the weight. Given my height, my weight was just barely out of the healthy range-- less than 10 lbs at most. I still fit into the tour clothes I wore as a freshman on an important team. Another teacher did give me a chance the next semester, but by the end of April, my participation was again discouraged.

That was a turning point in my life, though at the time it simply made me angry and defensive. That teacher, so conscious of my weight and my size, told me things that are burned into my memory. She told me I was too heavy to dance on any team, and justified her decision by telling me things like, "I don't want you to find yourself in a situation where you can't fit into a costume or a partner can't lift you." I had never had a problem with either. She then related stories of other girls she had to let go due to weight or size, and in a twisted effort to encourage me told me how she sees them years later, fit and thin, and she just says to herself, "Why couldn't they have worked so hard when we needed them on the team!" She let me go under the guise of finding a place for me to succeed.

Her "encouragement" did nothing but make me angry for a while, then defensive. Rather than get my act together when I was still in the 150s (and therefore almost healthy range), I threw myself into acting and into my English degree, bent on proving that I could be talented, fun, castable, pretty, smart, and popular in spite of those extra inches that apparently kept me from any capacity to dance. I performed in eleven consecutive shows over the next 18 months, "found" myself (and ate delicious food-- and lost weight!) in Europe, discovered my passion for English and writing, met and started dating my now-husband. I have since graduated college, married, succeeded in bigger and better stage roles, and held down two "real" jobs which have taught me that I am capable of more than I ever thought myself to be.

I'm now at a bit of a standstill. I have proved to myself that I can be all that without being a size 6 (or smaller). I have shown myself what I am capable of, and have let my weight creep up on me. And for the first time since that teacher kicked me off the team and out of the club for being too heavy, my defenses are down. I want to lose weight and be healthy to complete my range of capacity-- and maybe even have a fighting chance at being cast as the pretty (but smart) girl in the play :)

I will never thank that teacher for the hurtful and cruel things she said to me. In many ways, I won't mind if I never see her again.

But I am grateful for the inspiration to learn to love myself for myself, no matter what the scale says.