Protecting Your Mental Health

Don't Lose Your Mind!!!!

Dance is an extremely difficult career field. From competition to personal aesthetic and emotional perfectionism, dancers encounter more stressors than nearly any other career that doesn't involve risking one's life or saving/protecting others. Dance Magazine's Jennifer Stahl recently wrote an article about a Portuguese study that suggests that dance training may actually cause psychological harm in the form of depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and unwarranted stress under certain circumstances. I think that the study noted in the article could probably use more study (and I've talked about emotional health in training on here before), but I do feel that certain methods of training can instill certain traits that could disrupt a dancers mental state. At the same time, in order to become a true artist, dancers often have to dig deeper and more personally into their psyche and physicality than most others in any other field. Perhaps, this also causes those consequences. Nonetheless, freelance artists often find themselves under greater stress and anxiety than company artists because of how closely tied together their art, livelihood, and careers are to their ability to find and sustain regular work. For this reason, I have developed a short list of valuable ways that I think can help protect dancer's mental health to ensure that they can handle the great amount of stress and anxiety that comes with a dance career.

1. Plan a Day Off in Advance - Many freelance artists will keep on taking work until it dries up. Often, this is out of fear that work will soon cease to appear. In reality, while not getting a day off may temporarily cushion your bank account with a little extra cash, you could possibly be bringing yourself that much closer to burn out. If this happens, you may find that you can't even bring yourself to continue working, which defeats the purpose. If you want to sustain a long-term career in dance, teaching, and more, one day off each week is probably more valuable than a short-lived career.

2. Find Ways to Take "Me-Time" - With all of my media work added on top of teaching and choreography, life can easily turn into never-ending periods of working for everybody except myself. Due to the fact that people are constantly reaching out to me for work, advice, and more, it is necessary for me to find a little bit of time every few days to do something completely for myself (without any guilt for work that has been left aside during that time). Some of my favorite guiltless "me-time" activities include sitting at a cozy coffee shop (preferably one with couches) and sipping a latte with a fresh baked soft cookie, taking a bath with candles and Pandora's "Chill Out" station playing, going for skyscraper walks around whatever city I'm in, and watching aimless videos on YouTube. When I take some time for myself, I don't feel as stressed or anxious about giving so much time to others and find I'm actually more generous with helping people out because I've already taken care of my own needs.

An image from one of my skyscraper walks

3. Develop Friendships with Non-Dancers That Don't Mind Discussing Dance - This one is pretty straightforward. It can become way too easy to only hang out with friends in your dance bubble. Most dancers go through phases where they start seeking friends who have nothing to do with the dance world. For many of those friends, one thing that is shocking for them is the amount of attention, thought, and dedication that goes into a dancer's evolution from student to performance career and beyond. Most don't realize how completely consuming this can be and are confused how dance is always on the tip of a dancer's tongue. I've had friends who were quite turned off by the regularity that conversations on dance become regular topics of discussion. Though, I am lucky to have cultivated a handful of very special friends who don't mind, if not enjoy, sitting around, learning about, and discussing our fascinating world. These friends are definitely keepers, especially for the benefit of having an outside opinion to balance out stressful experiences and internal politics with a perspective different than your colleagues. It is extremely valuable to develop friendships with non-dancers who don't mind, or even enjoy, talking shop. This can offer valid insights and a healthy perspective for looking at certain work-related stressors.

Non-Dance Friends are Important

4. Avoid All-or-Nothing Situations - For dancers, it tends to be all-or-nothing. For instance, if a dancer is trying to lose or maintain weight, they may completely avoid eating anything that they enjoy. Or if a dancer is told that they aren't improving fast enough, they may stop doing outside activities that bring great joy to their lives and enhance their human experience. Approaching situations in this way can lead a dancer to go overboard when they finally reintroduce certain things into their lives or, even, push a dancer into burn out or self-harm if they never indulge themselves. We only get one life to live. And while a dancer does need to make sacrifices to enjoy a dance career, they don't have to give up all things that make them happy in order to be the best dancer possible. A healthy dancer is a person who is balanced and knows how to use moderation to find that balance.

I always treat myself to a chocolate croissant when I've had a bad bus ride from Philly to NYC

5. See a Counselor - If all else fails and you find yourself in an impossible-to-get-out-of rut, do seek outside assistance from a mental health professional. After spending 4 lonely years on the road as a self-touring guest artist, I developed such severe anxiety that I could no longer handle simple stresses in life. I also wasn't aware how burnt out I had become. After a mild panic attack in Lincoln Center before watching a New York City Ballet performance, I realized I needed to talk to somebody about getting my anxiety back under control. I am so proud to be an advocate for people, especially dancers, to find ways to take the best care of their mental health. Many dancers leave home as teens and handle stress that few people experience in their career (let alone at such young, impressionable ages). There is no shame in seeking counseling to help improve your mental health. If you are wondering how to find a therapist, read this recent article, that explains how to find somebody that works for you and how to afford therapy if you don't have coverage.

Have I Been Forgotten?

Avenue of the Arts & City Hall - Philadelphia - My morning walk to open class

After nearly 7 months away, I can't even begin to explain how exciting it was for me to return home to Philly. Not only was I thrilled to see my partner and be in my own space, I was excited to see my cats, walk down familiar streets, and sleep in my own bed. Another rousing prospect high on my list was seeing all of my friends that were eagerly awaiting my return home. The day before I embarked on my 3 month tour to Alaska, a large group of about 20 friends gathered with me at a local pub. Last week, when I posted on Facebook that "I.....AM.....HOME", I was expecting the same reception that I received when I left. Alas, I got three responses. My sister said, "yay," my mom said, "woo hoo," and one Philly-based friend responded, "welcome home." And although about 15 people liked my status update, only 3 were local friends. As the next few days passed, I anxiously awaited phone calls, texts, and messages that somebody wanted to hang out with me. One or two came, but, other than that, it has generally been crickets. Then reality started to set in. I had been away for nearly 7 months with only a short break between gigs. Had I been forgotten?

To answer this question, I feel that I need to look all the way back to my childhood. I remember around the age of 13, I decided to dedicate myself to this crazy art of dance. I remember aching inside, I wanted it so badly. I didn't know exactly what was aching and I had an amorphous idea of what I wanted, but I ached for some sort of success and notoriety. As the years progressed, a small handful of students at my home dance studio, Chester Valley Dance Academy, convinced the director to add a Friday night ballet class. We didn't care that all of our peers were going to parties, seeing the newest blockbusters, and having youthful romances. All we knew was that we wanted another chance to dance, no matter the social consequence. Yes, we missed those occasions and, yes, we missed many more. But that little hurt that we did feel was covered up by our successes. We got into summer programs, we won awards at competitions, and we got to travel more than those sitting next to us in English class.

Once I moved on from my home studio, I was thrown into an environment with dozens of dancers, instead of four, just like me. We had made mature sacrifices as mere children. We passed on integral social building parts of our childhood to do something fascinating. We didn't care if we missed prom. We didn't care if we got made fun of for being men and dancing. We didn't care if our friends slowly started to drift away because we were always at dance. Finally, we had entered an environment with kids like us. At the Kirov Academy of Ballet, it was impossible to not become close to your peers. We lived, danced, ate, and received our academic education all in the same building. There was no need to turn down friendship for dance because we were always together in everything we did. But once we graduated, some dancers got contracts, some went to college, and others quit dance altogether and we scattered across the country like pigeons searching for breadcrumbs. We had to start the process all over again. Yes, we finally had solid friendships, just none of them lived close enough to hang out.

Reuniting w/suitemates from SAB 10 years later - Me (PNB), Jermel Johnson (PA Ballet), Andrew Scordato (NYCB)

Most dancers finally begin to have a solid social life once they join a company. This is when one usually settles down in one place for an extended period of time. Aside from befriending colleagues, being an independent adult allows you to pick and choose friends outside of dance who are fine with the oft erratic schedule of a dancer. Once I lived in Seattle for a long enough period of time, I had a solid group of friends in and out of dance. At that point, I felt that all of the sacrifices from my childhood paid off. I had the best of both worlds; my success as an artist and the social life that I had passed on years before. Then I decided to make a career change and moved away from that social atmosphere that had become an integral part of my young adult life.

Moving is almost always traumatic. Aside from relocating and adjusting to a change of environment, you need to find a new base of support. Unfortunately, my work takes me away from home for weeks and months at a time. I am lucky that my partner is mostly stationed in Philly throughout the year and has developed his own base of friends. Whenever I return home from a gig, he sits me down and reads a long list of people that are very excited to finally meet me. This is really nice and I always enjoy his new friends. For me, though, I feel that I have only acquired what is mostly panning out to be acquaintances with great potential. Now don't get me wrong, I have made some good friends in Philadelphia and I do have great relationships in the suburbs from my childhood. But for the most part, it is nearly impossible to cultivate caring, understanding, and mutual friendships when I am always picking up and leaving right as things start to blossom. It makes complete and total sense to me that I have these banging send offs and disappointing returns.

When I experience disappointment, I try to turn the tables and look at things from an outside perspective. Going through this process over the last week, I have come to realize a few things. The first being that it is not uncommon for people to latch onto me quickly. I am quite outgoing and friendly, which generally makes me easy to approach. Most non-dancers initially seek my friendship because of their intrigue in me as a dancer. I find that people seek to know the professional side of me before the personal. It takes awhile for acquaintances to really get to know me on a more personal level, which is truly when the friendship starts. I have to spend time cultivating potential friends to look at me as a person that dances instead of only as a dancer. This usually takes multiple, frequent encounters. Unfortunately, my work schedule doesn't allow that pertinent relationship building time. So, most of the people I meet feel a great connection to me that is easily pushed to the side after I leave town.

Along the same note, I have to remind myself of the well-known idiom, "Out of sight. Out of mind." When you don't see somebody with a hint of regularity, it is easy to forget about your relationship with that person. This is human nature, therefore removing the personal blame from either side of the equation. If an important connection hasn't been cultivated, one can't be held accountable for moving on to more important relationships in their lives.

Keeping the above in mind, I came to realize that I must accept some of the blame in my feelings of being disregarded. When I travel, I must adjust to a new environment. I have to learn the layout of the city, meet new colleagues, and find enough time to rest from all of the hard work I put in. When I come home from a long day in the studio, I am more likely to draw a bath and pour a glass of wine than I am to call or message a new friend. At the very moment that I started to feel bitter towards the lack of excitement in my return, I had to look at myself and accept that I put very little effort into cultivating something that I shouldn't expect as a given.

Once I got over the fact that nobody was calling me, I started contacting people. And as I have slowly started adjusting to being home and begun returning to my routine, I have run into some of the people that I had hoped would reach out to me. Each one of them has responded with the same excitement that they had when I left. It must be kept in perspective that, as I do when I get busy, people don't necessarily forget about you when you aren't around. Just because somebody hasn't contacted you, doesn't mean that they don't care about you anymore or that you haven't crossed their mind. Essentially, I am surrounded by successful adults that are just as busy as I am. They probably feel the same way about me that I felt about them. If one offers a gentle reminder that they have returned, they will get a better response than they would if they egotistically waited around for everybody else to make initial contact.

With this new mindset, I don't feel as forgotten as I did just days ago. Being a freelancer, we are lucky that we get to make friends everywhere that we go. While most adults stay in one place and cultivate their one group of friends, I have the privilege of traveling the world and making friends in each city that I travel. While there isn't always sheer excitement each time I come and go, there is often excitement everywhere I go. It is actually a privilege to have friends wherever I travel. This must not be taken for granted. When I finally decide to settle down and slow the pace of my freelancing, I can be more concerned about having a solid social group at home. And to be completely honest, if I am to be forgotten, it can't really be all that bad. I survived these feelings as a teenager. So I can surely live a happy life with these feelings as an adult. Not much has really changed since I was a devoted teenage dance student passionate about my art.