Hello you
Today’s letter is in paid partnership with Dove.
The studio looked bigger than usual. Empty, it’s floor stretched out and reflected the light from the mirrors, echoing it would be just the two of us. This wasn’t how ballet usually went. For years it had been my soft escape from reality. An hour a week of soothing my inner child. But as the time passed and my plié deepened, I wanted to get better. I began envisaging an aspirational version of myself. How I’d like to look when I danced, the steps I’d like to master but most importantly how I’d like to feel.
I’d prepared myself as best I could; my hair pinned back so I couldn’t hide my face and a good strong deodorant already applied - Dove Whole body in raspberry and rose because it couldn’t feel more on brand. It’s available in cream and spray but I prefer the stick because it’s easier to travel with. I even had a back up pair of shoes sitting right next to it in my bag just incase.
When I first stepped into a ballet studio it had been in leggings and a t-shirt. Now here I was in a leotard, pink tights and wrap chiffon skirt. I looked like someone who takes this seriously, who can dance - but that’s not how I felt inside. This, I knew was what needed to change.
I had to allow myself to be seen.
Tim had taught me since I arrived in Paris. I remember the first time I took his class and how out of my comfort zone I felt. He looks like he just walked off the stage of the Palais Garnier, can execute a triple pirouette at a moments notice and has little empathy for nerves. Go go go! he’ll shout as we all glissade jeté across the floor. Higher, higher, higher! There’s no hand holding, it’s sink or swim. And I’d grown tired of the feeling I was sinking. I needed help and I was ready to ask for it. The alternative was to settle, continue trying to hide at the back and succumb to fear. In teaching my body to speak through ballet it had acquired a voice and that voice was clear.
Tentatively, I took my Pinterest vision board with me. I live visually and I needed Tim to understand what I was aiming for. Hoping he wouldn’t laugh, I showed him when he asked me what I wanted to work on. No reaction, just a nod. Then we made a start. Barre to begin with and I was told ‘we work on the feet first, everything else will improve from here.’
I was so nervous I kept forgetting the combinations. Normally I tuck myself in behind a strong dancer so this doesn’t happen. Sweaty and panicked, my inner critic wanted to run out of the studio. I can’t do this. I need a lead. For goodness sake I’m 38, what am I doing stood here in a leotard like an overgrown child. But when I was surrounded by mirrors there was nowhere else to look. I came face to face with myself. It was uncomfortable, but worth it. My own reflection was staring back at me and I chose to work together, not looking away and most importantly, not walking away. This is what it would take to really be with myself. I wanted to express what I felt inside, in a way that looked beautiful. To blend truth and beauty.
But ballet is hard. There aren’t any shortcuts. Learning is slow and it will test. There’s also a reason it has a bad reputation when it comes to body image. It could have been both the worst and best place for me given my previous body struggles but I intentionally made it the best, through actively choosing to love my body through the process instead of punishing it. ‘I love you body,’ I’d say, sometimes in my head, sometimes in a whisper, ‘it’s ok to change.’ This loving self talk was enough to relax my nervous system so my body had a strong foundation to build from. Panic or self-loathing wouldn’t have been survivable. I was here to evolve. Not break.
‘You have everything you need to make your dreams come true Jessica. Look what happens when you try. Look at yourself in the mirror!’ And so I looked. There I was in an arabesque pose I’d only ever dreamed of before. My legs looked three inches longer, my torso another three. I didn’t recognise her. I’d been hiding her. There was so much more of me than I’d shown. In that moment I felt what it takes to really show myself unapologetically; the stretch, the mindset and the feeling of being fully expressed alongside some of the most beautiful music ever composed.
As we moved into centre work Tim said, ’you have to understand energy Jessica. Yes, you have to respect other people, but you also have to respect yourself. Now stand there like you’re a soloist.’ The seriousness elevated me and afterwards, because all I could think of at the time was remembering the steps, I thought about how we’re all soloists - stepping our way through this life. And we get to choose how. I’ll never dance on the main stage at Paris Opera (in this life ;)) but that doesn’t mean I can’t experience the joy of teaching my body a language it can speak. Arguably, it’s more enjoyable without that kind of pressure.
It’s been a difficult, often conflicted, but worthwhile journey of acceptance. We can equally accept ourselves as we are and the version we strive to be. It was interesting to learn from my teacher in the UK, that thinness in ballet only existed after the war. Artists like Degas highlight this change. The body ideal shifted because people starved and the aesthetic was noticed then favoured. Dark, but nothing to do with the art form itself. Anyone can do ballet at any age and everyone can benefit. We’re merely living in a defined era of taste and unless you plan to dance for a professional company, we can forget this trend. It’s nothing more than that.
I left class feeling so proud of myself. Excited for the next one. I used to rush off after class, but no more. Rituals have become part of taking myself seriously. I write down my corrections, foam roll and take the time I need to prepare myself to leave. It’s all an act of staying when I want to run.
Part of that ritual now starts before I even get to the barre. Ballet is physical work. Real work. My body moves, sweats and stretches into places it rarely goes in ordinary life. My elbows have to carry music from my back muscles, knees lift my feet as if attached to a string and stomach stretch into an effortless port des bras. I reach for Dove Whole Body Deodorant in Raspberry and Rose Scent before class for a few reasons, but first and foremost this one. It works. Beyond underarms, is designed to be used alongside your regular underarm deodorant, giving our whole bodies the same care we usually reserve for one small part of them. Aluminium free and dermatologically tested, it’s gentle enough for sensitive skin and strong enough for a class with Tim. The raspberry and rose scent not only aligns with my name but my word of the year too, and I can’t get enough rose in my life right now. Every rose is serendipitous to me.
My ballet classes have become so much more enjoyable since I stepped into the fear it takes overcoming to improve. They’re an expression of my soul now. I do feel able to channel emotions through movement as I hoped I would. These weren’t silly fantasies to be dismissed, they were me reaching for what was possible. I do feel my body can tell a story and this is where we can learn our ever expanding vocabulary. I take these lessons into my daily life, often without realising it until I catch sight of myself in an ordinary window or when I’m editing my vlogs. I’ll notice how my posture and confidence have improved and I know the wilted version of my body has healed through dance.
I’ve come to believe there’s a point in every healing journey where talking therapy reaches its limitation. What’s required next or alongside cannot happen in the mind. This is when we feel called to return to our body. This is where the cycle completes. The balm we find here can only release when we connect to our heart. It’s somatic. It’s learning to rest in the skin we were taught to hide and feel ashamed of. It’s reassuring our nervous system we’re safe when we tremble and taking tiny step after tiny step towards full body awareness. Embodiment. Once we accept we can express. We can be.
You might not feel called to put on ballet shoes as an adult beginner the way I did, but whatever soulful movement you’re curious about - even if it feels scary, ridiculous or too late to start, please listen to what your body is trying to say, trust the unknown and make the first move. It doesn’t matter how it looks (don’t tell my ballet teacher I said that) that will come with time and consistency. All that matters is how it feels.
Book the class, sign up for an online membership, buy the leotard. I promise it’s a whole other level of healing. Don’t forget to take oh so gentle care of it along the way.
You can shop Dove Whole Body Deodorant online or at select retailers here.
Lots of love
Jessica xxx
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