I could pinpoint exactly when and why it started.
One day after rehearsal, I saw my name posted alongside the words “See the artistic staff.”
I remember sitting down in their office, so anxious that I was sweating.
They told me: “Your body has changed.
The lines you’re creating don’t look the way they used to.
We’d like to see you lengthen.”
I was so embarrassed that all I could answer was “I understand.
I’d like to change this.”
And then I got out of there as fast as I could.
When I reached my apartment, I started crying uncontrollably.
But in my own little world, I was devastated to learn I was “fat.”
I had always been proud of my bodyits strength and grace enabled me to pursue my passions.
But now it had become the enemy.
I never thought of myself as special or particularly good at anything.
But once I started ballet, suddenly I had a new identity: prodigy.
“You’re everything he wanted,” she said.
“You’re perfect.”
I was 19 and tinyI’d never even menstruated.
I know people see dancers as thin as I was and assume we must be anorexic.
I didn’t have an eating disorderthen.
Almost overnight, my body was transformed.
Usually, ballerinas share costumes since we have similar builds.
I became so self-conscious that, for the first time in my life, I couldn’t dance strong.
I was too busy trying to hide my breasts.
After a few months, I was called in for The Talk, and the bingeing began.
I didn’t even want to be seen in ballet class, which I’d always loved.
I have so much talent.
And I hated myself for not being able to fix it.
My perverse form of rebellion (and comfort) was doughnuts.
That’s when everything began to shift.
Gradually, I started to feel more relaxed and comfortable in my frameand even happy with it.
Then I met my boyfriend, Olu, who was studying law at Emory University.
Since our relationship was long-distance for the first year, we spent every night talking on the phone.
He’d tell me over and over that I was talented and beautiful.
As a ballerina, you always stand in front of the mirror searching for flaws.
After she saw me perform in Hollywood, she left me a note asking me to call her.
I did, and when we met, we talked nearly all night long.
“Your body is fine,” she said.
“But you’ll feel better if you take care of it.”
But now I started to understand that my body’s natural evolution into womanhood had validity, too.
Dancing had always made me happy, and I wanted that back.
So my priority became simply accepting my new self.
I really didn’t give a shot to stop bingeing.
I still ate sweets occasionally because I love themespecially cupcakes and banana puddingbut now just one serving was plenty.
Within a few months, I’d forgotten Krispy Kreme’s number.
But now I owned it.
And I think I changed everyone’s mind about what a perfect dancer is supposed to look like.
Over the next few years, things at ABT just got better.
I became a soloist with the companythe first black dancer to do so in more than two decades.
And in 2012 I landed my biggest role yet, headlining inFirebird.
I remember walking out of rehearsal in jeans and sandals to get my hair done for the premiere.
It was everything that people don’t expect in a ballerina.
I stood completely still for five minutes, just crying.
It was a woman.
Photo Credit: CN Digital Archive
