Dawn Smith-Theodor (DS-T) : 

My mom had a dancing school in Ohio so I danced before I was born. I moved to New York and danced for Henry Letang who at the time was doing a bunch of broadway shows.  And then I ended up going to Japan and performing at The Mikado Theater, I’ve danced at Carnegie Hall, and at the Sydney Olympics. After dancing professionally I opened my dance school in Los Angeles and ran it for 25 years. I still do a master class series around the country with a friend of mine.

JS : What inspired you to start working with dancers with eating disorders?

DS-T:

I started working at a treatment center for eating disorders as an intern through my Masters Program. I had actually wanted to work with AIDS patients because my partner died of AIDS and it was very new. But I ended up working at this eating disorder treatment center.

I had an eating disorder as a teen into my twenties and nobody knew what eating disorders were or how to treat them. I was finishing my own treatment myself. I went through years of therapy but I had never really been with other people working through eating disorders.

I led a group where I used to dance with the clients and everyone had a different reaction. There would be a group after where we’d talk about how to be with the mirror.

When I decided to write my book, there was really nothing out there on dancers with eating disorders, so I felt like it was a much needed area. I do a lot of speaking – at Steps (on Broadway), Dance Theatre of Harlem, Boston Conservatory, Hollywood Connection. I try to get the word out as much as possible to educate parents, teachers, and then dancers.

JS : What made you want to write the book?

DS-T:

Because there was really nothing out there. I wanted to share my knowledge. It was written for kids 12-22 and there’s a section for the parents. From the dance perspective I wanted to share my knowledge. I’m recovered from an eating disorder, I’m a dancer, I’ve owned a dance studio, I’m a therapist who treats eating disorders so I felt like I had it covered from all perspectives.

JS : What would you say to people who try to say there isn’t a great prevalence of eating disorders in dance?

DS-T:

It’s simple not true. One out of every 5 dancers has an eating disorder whereas one out of every 100 people has an eating disorder. My information has not always been welcomed in the dance community. Some dance conventions and competitions aren’t open to it. It’s very sad, the dance world doesn’t really want to view it as a problem.

JS : What advice do you give to parents?

DS-T:

I ask parents to let the student enjoy dance for what it is and not be a stage parent. And also to be aware of the warning signs for eating disorders so they aren’t just thinking that, oh my daughter looks better in a tutu. I’ve had situations like that where in treating dancers, the parents weren’t really aware that something was said to their daughter like, you would look so much better if you lost a few pounds and then the girl went on a serious diet.

People see that as, oh she’s so determined but you have to know where the line is where it’s problematic. I always tell parents, if you have a concern, be curious and empathetic. Ask questions but from a perspective of I’ve noticed this or I’m concerned because I saw this, is everything OK, because you’re going to get a lot farther that way.

JS : And what about for dance teachers, what do you tell them as far as approaching food and dancer health?

DS-T:

I tell dance teachers, don’t talk about food and weight! Don’t weigh your students or put a focus on the size of the body because some kids aren’t going to be professional dancers. I also think in the dance world, there’s a place for everybody if they want to dance and not to discourage kids.

I had 2, 10 year old students who went off to ABT’s young students program. One had the “perfect body” but was less advanced and she was put in a higher level than the more advanced student. My more advanced student came back and said I don’t think I’m going to make it in the ballet world because I don’t think I have the right body.

So, I really think if a student has potential as far as talent – try to develop that and focus on that, not the size of their body.

JS : I think you’re so right that there’s a place to dance for those who want to.

I’ve seen it come up in different forums and there’s always the person who says, “These are the realities of the dance world and if you want to dance you have to look this way” but I’m very much in the same camp as you that it’s a matter of finding the place that accepts you as you are at your healthiest, not your thinnest.

DS-T:

Yea, instead of conforming to what they want or shaping yourself into something other people want. I’m such a believer in following your passion and being able to enjoy dance. The competition world has just turned dance into something it’s not supposed to be. It’s all about winning the trophy instead of enjoyment.

It’s raised the bar really high but is it an art form or is it just like gymnastics and scoring points?

JS : What do you tell dancers?

DS-T:

To balance their life. You have to have a life outside of dance. You can love dance but you also need to have friends and other interests because it’s going to make you a healthier dancer all around. To be able to go to the movies or take your dog for a walk and leave the dance studio and practice behind.

In my book I also talk about balance as a professional dancer and being on tour and being able to do other things besides dance it’s really important.

JS: I think we’re very aligned – it’s so important to have many voices echoing these messages.

DS-T:

It’s so important and I feel like dancers need as many resources as possible. I feel so blessed to have been in the dance world my whole life and to continue to work in the dance field. Not only teaching but spreading the word on being a healthy dancer and that it is possible. Recovery from an eating disorder is also completely possible – I’m living proof.

I work with dancers every day and I want to hold the light. 

Dawn Smith-Theodore, LMFT is a specialist in the treatment of eating disorders. Dawn has a private practice in Agoura Hills and Westwood, CA. For more about Dawn, CLICK HERE and to purchase her book Tutu Thin, A Guide to Dancing without an Eating Disorder, CLICK HERE.

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When I turned 9, my dance teacher asked me if I wanted to do something more professional and audition for a ballet academy. Dancing was all I wanted to do so I answered yes. My parents allowed me to take my own decisions and they supported me and my choices.

At age 10 I auditioned for La Scala in Milan and got rejected. It left me very upset, but I decided to try for another professional dance school and I got in. I moved away from home and started studying every day and I slowly found out how much discipline and hard work are required to make it as a dancer.

Two years later I moved to another dance studio that offered me the possibility to take certified ballet exams, do competitions and audition for bigger dance academies as well. I recently auditioned for the American Ballet Theatre JKO School and received a full one-year scholarship so, next fall I’ll be moving to New York and start a new exciting journey there.

Reading what I wrote above, it seems like I had to do nothing except for taking ballet classes every day to get where I am now. It wasn’t like that at all! I had to overcome many obstacles! When I moved away from home at 10 I went to live in the dormitory of the ballet school and I was the youngest girl there.

I was always alone and I slowly fell down into depression. At age 11 I developed a serious eating disorder but nobody really noticed how bad I was feeling and, if they noticed, they preferred to stay out of it. I was lying to my parents because I didn’t want to worry them but they understood that something was wrong and they brought me home.

I wasn’t allowed to dance or do any sort of physical activity form months and I was seeking help from a psychologist to get out of my eating disorder. It has been very hard, both for me and my parents. Once I started feeling better I immediately asked to go back to dance classes, I was missing ballet too much!

When I started dancing again, even if I wasn’t physically recovered, I began smiling and I rediscovered my positivity and strength. It took me around two years to fully recover from depression and anorexia, but now I look back and see how much I have grown and I am proud of myself.

When I moved to my current dance studio I started focusing a lot on improving my dance technique rather than spending time looking in the mirror to mentally measure my body and feel bad about it. This was the major turning point in my dance journey.

I was also surrounded by many friends and thanks to that I re-found my true passion for ballet and a tiny bit of self-esteem. I turned my goal from being the skinniest possible to becoming the best dancer I could be and with this idea in mind, I got where I am now and I can’t wait to see what life brings to me.

Finding out how far I can go by simply pushing myself out of my comfort zone is what inspires me to dance. I want to achieve as much as I can and share it through my dancing. Outside of dance, I just try to always be the nest version of myself, to be kind to myself and others, to be polite, to follow my heart and to make as much experience as I can.

I am a very curious person and I always want to try new things. Mental health is essential for me and to take care of it I try to treat myself as if I was my best friend. I try to reduce negative self-talk (I said reduce because I admit I sometimes judge myself), I try to stay surrounded by people I love and admire, I spend time alone because it helps me to reconnect with myself and I do things that I really enjoy outside of dance (journaling, reading, writing, taking pictures…).

When I feel down I usually listen to music or I find some motivational speakers videos, I talk about my fears with my mom and I just remind myself my goals. It’s impossible to feel positive 100% of the times: I accept it and move forward.

I have many people I consider mentors. My parents are my number 1 mentors, then the psychologist who helped me to get out of depression, one of my previous dance teacher who doesn’t teach me anymore but still helps me whenever I need support and all the people in The Whole Dancer Facebook Community.

Whenever I have a problem I write there and so many sweet people reply giving advice and sending their love. It’s a wonderful community!

Have a clear goal in mind and do everything you can to reach it. Don’t give up: there will always be haters and hard times. Ask for help when you need it and enjoy the journey.

The post Alessia – from Depression to JKO appeared first on The Whole Dancer.

I can trace my eating disorder back to when I was 15. I was at a nutrition lecture at a ballet summer program. The nutritionist took a tub of Crisco and dumped it onto a student’s hand and said, “That’s a donut.” I haven’t eaten a donut since.

That summer I decided that I would only eat junk or dessert on weekends. I would turn down offers of Skittles, Swedish Fish and other sweets or snacks from friends at lunch during school. They thought I was just being a crazy dancer. Some admired me for being so disciplined and focusing on my health.

When I got to college, my habits escalated. I was deathly afraid of gaining the Freshman 15. My class and rehearsal load was significantly less than the schedule I had in high school. As a result, I spent more time in the gym and Pilates studio.

With my spare time, I went through Pilates Mat Instructor training. I didn’t have time for lunch in between technique classes, so lunch was often an apple and a Luna bar. I would freak if I didn’t eat at least one salad per day.

Many students got sick from eating ill-prepared meat from the dinning halls, so I was terrified of eating chicken on campus. I couldn’t get into the social life because on weekends everyone drank like fish. As a control freak, I had problems letting go.

But what really got me was the constant mental reminder: alcohol is calories. I would spend extra time in the gym punishing myself for a night out drinking. It should have come to no surprise to me that I had a stress fracture in my left fibula after my first semester.

I moved back home when I got my first professional contract. I was living with my parents and food issues subsided a little. But lunch was a meal I continued to avoid. During rehearsal periods, I would get 15, maybe 20-30 minutes for lunch. I was doing contemporary ballet rep that involved a lot of partnering and getting thrown around. I didn’t want to upchuck on my partner, so lunch was often limited to an apple, some kind of veggie, and maybe a handful of granola. I would then go home and have a huge dinner.

From 18-21, my weight fluctuated depending on injuries, how much I was dancing, and the rep I was dancing. I subconsciously lost weight to fit a costume that was two sizes too small for me, but that’s what my cast A counter-part wore, so I had to wear the same costume.

When I was 20, I practically lived on my own while at a summer program. I lost the weight I gained while out on an injury, and then some. People kept telling I looked really skinny. I took it as a complement, but looking back that’s when people started to show their concern.

I remember one of the guys I was dancing with telling me I should go eat a bag of chips. Another dancer told me I should go eat a sandwich. I wasn’t getting the hints.

The following summer, I lost even more weight between long class and rehearsal days, sweating in the Florida heat, and unappetizing options at the dining hall. I liked how skinny I was then and I wasn’t going to change that.

My fellow dancers showed concern but not enough to right out say something. At that point I was living on my own, so my food accountability was non-existent. If I didn’t feel like making dinner, I would just snack on veggies, nothing that amounted to a full meal.

In February 2015, I finally realized I had a problem. I turned to my roommate at the time and admitted I have a problem. Her first response was: “I know. I figured that out within a week of moving in with you.” A month later, I was visiting my doctor for a sinus infection, when I admitted I didn’t have a good relationship with food. She referred me to The Renfrew Center.

On April 13, 2015 I checked myself into the Renfrew Center’s Intensive Outpatient Program. It was three evenings a week, three hours each day. An average day included a group session, dinner, and a second group session. These days were also supplemented with individual weekly therapy sessions, and dietician meetings.

In my second group meeting on my first day, we did an exercise called voices not bodies. We talked about how you have to use your voice, not your body, to communicate what you are feeling. Verbally tell someone you’re hurting instead of denying yourself the fuel it needs.

It clicked that that is what I had been doing to my body since I was 18. When I got to my car that night, I cried out of relief. I was no longer alone. There was a whole group of women who had the same problem as me, and were working together to change that.

I discovered why I started my eating disorder in the first place. I learned that my root mental problem was: I’m not good enough (which sounds familiar to any dancer).

I learned coping methods for stressful food situations and how to prevent myself from using eating disorder symptoms to handle life’s stress. I learned that an eating disorder is a very lonely disease.

It’s a secret filled with shame that you keep locked inside. The first thing you learn in recovery is that you are not alone. There are people who want to heal just like you, and there are people that want to help you heal.

I met the most incredible women at Renfrew, both staff and fellow patients. It was great having a fantastic support system for seven weeks who were so invested in your life and progress. We would have check ins and the beginning and the end of the week to see how you were coping with stress, adjusting to new food plan or therapies, or life happenings.

The most important thing I learned was how to eat a healthy amount every day. I had to relearn natural eating habits. I had a meal plan that outlined how many servings of each type of food I should be getting.

We had to learn what was considered a serving with the Renfrew system. I still do a mental meal plan check in to see how I’m doing some days, seeing if I’m getting enough nutrition.

The fun part of treatment was rediscovering the love of food and cooking. For therapy homework I was instructed to try new foods and recipes. I found what was comfortable and safe food, and ventured into what was exciting and new.

I learned how meal prep is so key for stressful weeks and long rehearsal days. I’ll make a large batch of something (for example fried rice with veggies, or quinoa with chick peas and veggies) for dinner, which will also be lunch for the next 2-3 days.

Dancing during recovery was certainly a process. As part of my recovery, I had to gain five pounds to get to a healthy weight. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but it felt like a lot.

The summer following my treatment I would look and the mirror and I wasn’t sure what looked good or what looked healthy. I wish my treatment had included how to look at yourself in the mirror, but I was the only dancer in treatment, so the topic never came up.

If anything they encouraged us to stay far away from mirrors. It took at least a year until I actually could look at myself in the mirror and be ok with what I saw (though we all sometimes have rough days). On the positive side, it felt so good to have more energy for class and rehearsal.

Going through treatment made me realize how hyper-focused I was on ballet. It made me take a step back and ask myself what else can I be passionate about besides dance? Because lets be real, the stress of ballet and life is what made me sick.

The summer after treatment I took a month off. It wasn’t planned it just happened. I went on vacation, did school work, and worked extra shifts at the dance store. I just needed to take a breather from dance. When I came back, I worked hard to reignite my passion.

While going through recovery it was really hard to talk to friends and family about it. My roommate at the time was my first supporter; she even came to group family sessions with me.

My mom, who I gradually explained my struggles to has been my biggest support since. She still checks in on me at least once a week. When I go home for dinner, she makes sure that I leave with a ton of leftovers to get me through stressful rehearsal weeks.

My dad still doesn’t understand it and at this point probably thinks it just went away. He doesn’t realize that I still check in with a therapist every other week. I didn’t tell many of my friends. But the ones I did tell said they were glad I was getting help.

An eating disorder is not something that goes away overnight or the second you leave treatment. It’s a long, twisting journey with lots of bumps along the way. It’s something on your back burner that if you don’t keep checking on it, it might boil over. It’s a diligence of self-care and working on you.

Today, I’m not as forward with mentioning that I’m two and a half years into recovery. I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I had such a stereotypical ballerina problem. But it’s why I applied to be an intern at The Whole Dancer. I wanted to help dancers that were going through what I had gone through. I wanted to stop being afraid of sharing my voice, my story, and rise against the eating disorder stigma the dance world has created.

The post Intern Jessie Shares her Eating Disorder Story appeared first on The Whole Dancer.