Being a dancer can lift the soul, but it can also be hard on the heart and mind. All of the swirling expectations, pressures, and self-doubts…it can be a lot, overwhelming even. The information out there on how to address dancers’ mental health challenges? Also overwhelming, by sheer force of volume. That is good, because the field is finally addressing these challenges and better supporting its artists rather than minimizing or even stigmatizing the difficulties. Yet, it’s still a lot for dancers to take in, especially when they are already notoriously juggling so much else.
We at Dance Informa thought we’d make it all a bit simpler by boiling it down to a digestible guide on the main challenges and what to do to address them (not an exhaustive list of challenges and suggestions, to be sure). It can help to start by making these challenges concrete and tangible, so we’re calling them Perfectionism, Comparison Demon, Catastrophising, and Imposter Syndrome.
To lead us in better understanding of these phenomena and how to manage them, we’ve consulted Sanna Nordin-Bates, Professor of Sports Psychology at the Swedish School of Sport and Health Sciences, and Mental Performance Coach Lyssa Wopat, M.S., CMPC.
Before we look at those phenomena one by one, Nordin-Bates has some advice that overlaps them all (because these experiences do overlap in many ways, she affirms). Self-critique is often necessary for improving as a dancer, yet it’s best to frame that as constructive critique – the kind that can actually contribute to growth – rather than negative judgment.
Having a growth mindset, focused on learning and evolving as a person and as an artist rather than on what you’re doing “wrong,” can also take the edge off these mental health challenges. That can certainly be easier said than done, yet some of the strategies that we’ll describe can make it more feasible.
Lastly, in that idea of focus, where one is placing their attention can indeed make a difference. Nordin-Bates encourages attention toward artistry and the beauty within the art form of dance. If one is truly focused there, they can experience awe and joy, thereby making less room for self-doubt or other negativity in their thoughts…how wonderful!
Perfectionism
What it is and what it does
Perfectionism is a striving toward perfection, one that’s incredibly common in dancers. “It can have deleterious effects on performance and enjoyment in, and satisfaction from, dance,” Wopat explains. The perfectionist dancer is highly self-critical, “constantly holding a magnifying glass up to their dancing, evaluating themselves at all times – often harshly. They may frequently experience feelings of failure because they will almost always fall short of their expectation of perfection.”
Nordin-Bates closely associates this way of thinking with Imposter Syndrome, because both are based in “shaky self-esteem” as well as the belief that certain contexts require absolute perfection. “It can make one constantly shift goals…thinking ‘I have to be the best in the class,’ and if they reach that, then there’s a new level of ‘perfection’ they must reach.”
Both of our experts note that perfectionism is commonly separated into “adaptive” and “maladaptive” striving, yet they question the idea of “adaptive perfectionism”. Nordin-Bates underscores how the pursuit of perfection, in and of itself, is arguably quite extreme.
Wopat argues that “adaptive perfectionism” is actually “a bit of a misnomer”; it’s really just holding high standards and striving for high levels of performance, while the person also has the mental flexibility to accept less-than-perfect outcomes with grace. They can still enjoy dancing, rather than being focused on falling short of perfection.
Then the person can “be more motivated to meet their high standards. They can navigate and view making mistakes in a healthy way, rather than that symbolizing a lack of ability or a complete failure,” Wopat continues. Nordin-Bates echoes this distinction, underscoring the importance of mental adaptability. With that, the person can “work hard but not overwork; they know when to stop. They’re driven by joy and curiosity rather than anxiety.”
How to be less perfectionistic:
#1. Explore the standards and expectations that you’re setting for yourself.
Are they reasonable? Are they flexible or rigid? Would you demand these standards of a good friend? (Nordin-Bates names this as a great question across many of these challenging thought patterns.) “Look out for absolutistic phrasing/thinking (e.g., never, always, must, must not, et cetera), and try to modify that to be more flexible,” Wopat advises.
#2. Have self-compassion!
Wopat explains how “maladaptive” perfectionism tends to go down as self-compassion goes up, and vice-versa. “Self-compassion is not fake niceness, and it’s not synonymous with lowering your standards.” It’s recognizing that mistakes are human, and again, granting yourself the same kindness and understanding that you’d extend to a good friend. A perfectionistic response to falling out of a turn might be “ugh, why can’t I do this?!”, whereas a self-compassionate one would be “I am frustrated. Everyone gets frustrated from time to time. Falling out of a turn doesn’t erase all the things that went well,” Wopat says.
#3. Modify how you think about, and react to, making mistakes.
When one makes a mistake, they can ask themselves what information they can take away from it in order to improve. It’s just that, information, and “not a definition of ability,” Wopat affirms. With this mindset, instead of berating oneself for an “embarrassing” misstep or thinking that they “keep messing up”, one can tell themselves that “everyone makes mistakes from time to time. I can recover and keep going.”
‘Comparison Demon’
What it is and what it does
“Comparison Demon” is one way to see the tendency to compare oneself to others and their achievements. Dancers are unfortunately well-situated to experience it; they’re often in class and rehearsal together, seeking the same or similar roles (or company contracts, et cetera), and in tight-knit communities where they spend a lot of time with one another.
“Engaging in comparison is a very normal human experience. We often measure how we’re doing based on how others are doing around us,” Wopat explains. In fact, because it’s so normal and natural, it’s basically impossible to entirely eliminate that pattern of thinking, she adds. It’s also not automatically negative, because comparing can sometimes “be a source of inspiration, motivation, or confidence,” she says. An example of such positive comparison: “I really like how that dancer uses their port de bras. Maybe I can find a way to incorporate that into my dancing.”
Less constructive comparison “can leave you feeling low in confidence and can fuel self-doubt,” Wopat adds. A thought that could come from such a perspective is “I’m not good enough to turn like she can.” Nordin-Bates notes that, like any other tendency, it can come from personality/temperament, but one’s environment can also increase or decrease it.
How to manage comparative thinking:
#1. Keep a strengths inventory. Add to it and review it often.
When we constantly focus on other dancers’ strengths, those we might not have, we tend to forget about our own strengths and progress, Wopat says. We all do bring different strengths, Nordin-Bates reminds us. Our strengths inventory can include technical strengths and improvements (for example, use of turnout), artistic abilities (e.g., “I’m an expressive dancer”), and other dancer abilities and attributes (e.g. “my choreography retention is improving”). This process helps us to “proactively recognize the ‘good’ stuff to balance out all the ‘bad’ stuff that we are already noticing,” Wopat says.
#2. Set a focus/intention for each class. Bring your attention back to it when you notice you’re comparing.
This could be, for example, your épaulement or ballon. “When/if you notice your mind going into comparison mode, acknowledge those thoughts without judgment, and then return your attention to what you wanted to focus on,” Wopat recommends.
#3. For teachers, administrators, and choreographers: as much as possible, avoid a context of separated groups in classroom settings.
Nordin-Bates advises this, as it naturally sharpens comparative thinking. In professional settings, emphasize collaboration over individual achievement.
#4. Become friendly with your dancing peers!
The friendlier we are with people, the happier we are to see them succeed. That can shift our focus from them doing something that we “can’t” do. “Help each other out with class or rehearsal challenges. Share your fears or ‘imperfections’; we can then see that we all have our own struggles. Even chat about non-dance things,” Nordin-Bates suggests. “If and when you’re scared, it’s a natural response to withdraw, so connecting in that way sometimes does take work,” she acknowledges.
Catastrophising
What it is and what it does
This is a fairly common (and harmful) phenomenon wherein people “turn a mountain into a molehill”, so to speak; an individual takes something not going their way as much more of a big deal, with much more negative implication, than it really is/has.
Dancers, who are often Type-A personalities, are quite prone to this: for example, falling out of a turn means you’re terrible at turns and will never get better, getting cut from another audition means that you’ll never “make it” and don’t have what it takes. To be clear, “everybody does this, to some extent, especially when our goals are high and they mean a lot to us,” Nordin-Bates notes.
How to make small hills, not mountains, from molehills:
#1. Make your life about more than dance.
Having a high level of identification with being a dancer, in a way that it’s “integrated with your self-concept”, can have meaningful benefits, Wopat says: such as “fueling passion and resilience.” Yet, if it’s too high, and one’s self-concept is too narrow, then things like making mistakes, getting injured, or retiring can come with significant mental and emotional health challenges. “If your self-worth and self-concept are largely wrapped up in how well you think you’re doing in dance, making a mistake in dance isn’t simply that: it’s a comment on you and your worth as a human. That can easily fuel catastrophising thoughts,” Wopat explains. Both Wopat and Nordin-Bates advise avoiding such a “uni-dimensional” identity by leaning into other parts of yourself, exploring other interests, and allowing yourself to invest time and energy in things outside of dance. “It helps give us perspective, and fundamentally, catastrophizing is about a lack of perspective,” Nordin-Bates says. Ideally parents and caregivers encourage such multi-dimensional identities from early in life, she adds.
#2. Try to be more present-focused.
Most catastrophising thoughts involve believing that “something that has already happened indicates that something will/won’t happen in the future (e.g., I fell out of a turn (past) means I’m terrible at turns and will never get better (future),” Wopat explains. “The truth is, right here, right now, in the present moment, that catastrophe is not happening. And, the present moment is the only way you can have any power over the future anyway!” Mindfulness can help us to come back to the present (something else that Nordin-Bates suggests for addressing many difficult thought patterns). Recognize the catastrophising thought without judging it (or yourself for having it), and then return to the right here and right now: such as focusing on your breath, or tuning back into something about the task at hand (for dancers, one’s spot for turning or the music, for instance).
#3. Remember that not all thoughts are factual.
“When we acknowledge our catastrophising thought as simply that – a thought – it sometimes loses steam,” Wopat says. Thus, “I’m always going to be terrible at turns, it’ll never get better” can instead be “I’m having the thought that ‘I’m always going to be terrible at turns, and it’ll never get better.’” Similarly, we can recognize thoughts as stories that we tell ourselves; “I’m always going to be terrible at turns, it’ll never get better” becomes “this is the ‘I’m never going to get better at turns’ story.”
#4. ….then consider the actual facts.
For example, “I’m never going to get better at turns” (which is, again, not a fact) versus “I did a solid double this week” or “my spotting has improved.” Even general personal information, such as “I’ve struggled with things like in the past, but have overcome them,” can be similarly helpful.
Imposter Syndrome
What it is and how it limits us
Imposter Syndrome is another fairly common phenomenon that dancers are quite prone to. It’s the belief that you’re a “fake” because you don’t really have the experience, skills, et cetera to be where you are. By that thinking, falling out of a turn means that you’re not a “real” or a “good” dancer, just trying to act like one, and getting cut from an audition means that you can’t really claim to be a working professional dancer, just calling yourself that.
This mindset can stop people from “showing up” to class, to an audition, to any valuable opportunity, because they think that they’re not good enough to be there and therefore don’t belong, Nordin-Bates explains. It can also stop people from seeking helpful feedback because, by the thinking that they’re not good enough, they believe that the feedback will be very critical.
How to quiet the “you’re an imposter” voice:
#1. See the “you’re an imposter” thoughts as just thoughts, just a story you’re telling yourself. Counter with actual facts.
The same strategies that can quiet catastrophizing thoughts can quiet Imposter Syndrome’s voice. For example, the alternatives of “I’m having the thought that I’m not a real professional dancer because I got cut from an audition”, or “this is the ‘I’m not a real professional dancer’ story.” Remember a great audition you had the other day!
#2. Recognize the human bias toward negativity, and then actively reinforce positivity.
“Humans tend to notice, magnify, and remember the ‘bad’ things much more readily than the ‘good’ things. And dance environments usually reinforce this…we’re trained to look for things that are ‘wrong’ or ‘not good enough’ and to fix them,” Wopat explains. If we only see where we struggle versus where we achieve, then “our perception of our own ability can become extremely skewed to the negative, and we suddenly believe that we’re incompetent. That can turn into ‘I’m a fake’,” she adds.
#3. …and actively reinforce a sense of personal competency.
How do we do that? Wopat suggests keeping a strengths inventory (and adding to it and reviewing it often, as described) as well as setting goals (and first breaking them into smaller goals, using the “SMART” framework, and monitoring progress toward the goals). Practicing self-compassion can also help; if we wouldn’t tell someone we care about that they’re incompetent, why would we tell ourselves that? Nordin-Bates is also a big proponent of such self-compassion strategies.
#4. Remember that you don’t have to be “perfect” to show up.
This can counteract how Imposter Syndrome tends to stop people from moving forward and trying their best, Nordin-Bates affirms. She offers a metaphor for when the “you’re an imposter” thoughts are loud: think about a schoolbus with a bunch of rowdy kids (aka, the Imposter Syndrome thoughts) – the driver doesn’t stop the bus just because it’s loud inside. “We don’t need to feel on top of the world to take action: to perform or audition or go to class,” she reminds us. “Instead, we can think ‘I’m just going to show up’ and then we expose ourselves, learn from experience, and grow.”
By Kathryn Boland of Dance Informa.
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