Dealing With Eating Disorders

It has been said that we teach others what we most need to learn ourselves. As a dance teacher who struggled with anorexia nervosa from a young age, these words have particular meaning for me. I have learned a great deal in my journey through dance and anorexia, from performer to teacher; now it is my mission to instill a sense of positive body image in my own students.

To date, researchers have yet to pinpoint a cause for anorexia and other eating disorders. Generally, it is believed that eating disorders are caused by a combination of biological, psychological, social, cultural and family factors. According to the National Eating Disorders Association, extreme emotions, attitudes and behaviors surrounding weight and food issues characterize eating disorders such as anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa.

It is important to emphasize that dancing did not cause my eating disorder. It did, however, provide a place for it to worsen. Every day, I spent hours in the studio obsessing over my lean lines, turnout, flexibility and body positioning. Outside of the studio my obsession turned into calorie counting and food manipulation. Unfortunately, my dedication was praised by my teachers, though I in no way blame them, and was rewarded over the years with countless ribbons, trophies and awards. Eventually I went on to perform and teach professionally, while majoring in dance at a respectable university.

During college, and for the first time, instead of being praised for my obsession with perfection, I was wrongly suspected of using drugs to stay thin and energetic. As my body began to deteriorate, my risk of injury increased and I had more trouble getting through class. Eventually I was asked to take a hiatus in order to recover mentally and physically and, while potential legal issues were probably a consideration, my professors’ decision was made predominantly out of concern for my health.

At the time I was angry and confused, but now I’m grateful. My behavior was hazardous not only to myself, but also to other dancers. It is not uncommon for those with eating disorders to compete with one another, trying to eat less or lose weight more quickly. They share tricks for purging or hiding their weight. Unfortunately, since dancers constantly share diet and exercise tips with one another, it may be difficult to separate those with eating disorders from those striving to reach their physical peak. Teachers ought to consider discouraging unsupervised conversation about food, weight and diet aids. Instead, lead regular discussions with parents and students about proper nutrition, or invite a nutritionist to visit class and speak with your dancers.

A medical doctor, therapist, psychiatrist and dietitian are essential players in the recovery process. In-patient treatment facilities are usually the best way to go. (In my case, these were the most effective in helping me recover—they saved my life a few times over. I, as many anorectics, did not respond well to out-patient treatment.)

If a student needs to take time off, it is important that she feel supported by her teachers and peers. While I was in treatment, the cards and letters I received from fellow dancers were invaluable sources of encouragement. Plus, when the student is able to return to class, the transition will be easier if she has been keeping in touch with her fellow dancers. Remember, it is normal to feel guilty and powerless if one of your students is suffering from an eating disorder, so be sure to keep the communication lines open. It will help all involved. But don’t expect an eating disorder to be cured overnight—most go through years of therapy before reaching stable mental and physical health.

Dancers need to be given a reason to love their bodies, not hate them, because they exist in a world of mirrors and self-criticism. As a young dancer, I interpreted corrections from my teachers as “lose weight.” Every comment confirmed my idea that thinness was the end-all-be-all of perfection. “Tuck in your bottom” meant “your backside is too big.” “Hold your tummy flat” or “don’t arch your back” was “you’re too fat in the middle.” I interpreted “make your lines longer” as “you’re not thin enough.”

Technical and stylistic corrections are necessities, but teachers should not assume that students understand their real meaning. (For more on how to give constructive feedback, see “Feedback Strategies 101” on page 107.) Try to be sensitive to impressionable young dancers, who may be interpreting your feedback incorrectly.

In retrospect, I am amazed that I had the strength to dance at all. I was running on caffeine and diet pills and my muscles had deteriorated, but I pushed myself through five dance classes and four academic classes a day. Many anorectics and bulimics experience similar energy surges when their bodies enter hyperactive modes. This is why dancers with eating disorders are not always the weakest—or the thinnest. They come in all shapes and sizes, but there are physiological and behavioral warning signs. They will often become withdrawn or uncharacteristically moody. Anorectics, as well as low-weight bulimics, will often complain of cold chills and joint pain. Their eyes may become glassy, skin may turn pale or gray, hair may fall out and fur-like hair may grow in odd places over their bodies. Bulimics’ glands can bulge and their teeth decay. Note, however, that by the time these physical changes occur, they are already deep into the disease and need professional help immediately.

Specialists say that the earlier an eating disorder is detected and intensive professional care is received, the greater the chances of recovery, so if you suspect one of your students has an eating disorder, don’t stay silent. In the end, I have come to realize that I cannot prevent eating disorders from happening, and I still worry that one of my students will do to her body what I did to mine. I can, however, do my best not to promote the ideals that are so easily misinterpreted by impressionable youth and encourage other teachers to do the same.