The mirror is for your line, not your worth

In a ballet studio, the mirror is everywhere. It covers a whole wall. You see yourself from the moment you walk in until the moment you leave.

The mirror is supposed to help a dancer correct her line: the angle of the arm, the height of the leg, the place of the head. And it does. But it can also teach you something else, quietly, every day. It can teach you to divide yourself into flaws.

A list instead of a woman

After years of correction, I started to see my body as a list. This part too much, that part not enough. When your body is both your instrument and the thing people assess every day, it becomes easy to treat it as a project that is never finished.

I don’t think I was unusual. Many dancers learn this. And I think many people who have never stood in a ballet studio know it too, from other mirrors: the bathroom, the changing room, the phone camera.

What I practise now

I am learning, still, to stand in front of a mirror and see a woman, not a list of imperfections. It doesn’t happen every day. Some days the list comes back. But I have a few small habits that help me.

I use the mirror for a job, then I look away. If I check my posture or the line of my arm, the mirror has done its work. I don’t stay to judge everything else.

I ask how it feels, not only how it looks. A plié can look correct and feel terrible. Now I trust the feeling first.

I notice what my body did, not only how it looked doing it. It carried me up the stairs. It held a balance for ten seconds. It danced for many years. That is a lot.

I don’t compare. Comparison is the one partner who always steps on your toes. Another woman’s body is not a measure for mine.

Body, mind and soul together

Today I know that physical appearance cannot create happiness by itself. Body, mind and soul need to be connected. Meditation helps me feel present. Rest helps me hear what constant effort once covered.

When I practise with others, I want the mirror to be optional. If you practise at home with me, you don’t need one. You need a chair, a little space, and the willingness to feel your body from the inside.

The mirror is for your line, not your worth.

Zuza