Speaker 1: Okay, Erica, you gotta get ready. This is too good.
Speaker 1: What are we watching? So we're in my basement and
Speaker 1: I'm going to force you to watch The Nutcracker, and
Speaker 1: not just any Nutcracker. You're Nutcracker when you were Marie
Speaker 1: aka Clara and other versions, but the main character that
Speaker 1: was a Golden Year? A Golden Year? How did you
Speaker 1: get these on your computer? Because weren't they vhs? Yeah?
Speaker 1: How did you get these? Mom? And Dad? Can we
Speaker 1: get to watch it? Because I'm dying to watch? All right?
Speaker 1: I think this is going to be fun. I know
Speaker 1: you're probably a little bit anxious. Oh my gosh, just
Speaker 1: seeing the still of the costumes. So I guess I
Speaker 1: should tell you. My name is Alan, I'm Erica's sister.
Speaker 1: I also produced this show. I know it might feel
Speaker 1: abrupt to suddenly hear from me, but there's something about
Speaker 1: Erica that she's extremely reluctant to talk about that I
Speaker 1: think you should know. Okay, I'm going to click on it.
Speaker 1: We're going to full screen it. You're ready. The Youth
Speaker 1: Ballet Company presents two thousand and one The Nutcracker December fourteenth, fifteenth,
Speaker 1: and sixteenth. WHOA, this is epic they have, like the
Speaker 1: roles they have, the whole cast, little List, Mouse Cook,
Speaker 1: Missus Stallbam, doctor Stalbam. I didn't know he's a doctor.
Speaker 1: Erica devoted her life to ballet for more than ten years.
Speaker 1: She thought about trying to go all the way to
Speaker 1: join a company and become a professional dancer. I can
Speaker 1: picture all of these dancers and like how they danced.
Speaker 1: I remember what their feet looked like, what looked like
Speaker 1: definitely Marie so Bam, Erica Lance. Clearly, I'm enthusiastic. I'm
Speaker 1: trying to pump Erica up and get her more excited,
Speaker 1: but she's visibly uncomfortable. As the music plays and the
Speaker 1: opening credits role, She's shifting in her seat. She's good
Speaker 1: at masking how she feels, but I can tell it's
Speaker 1: sparking a memory. I'm asking Erica to go back to
Speaker 1: a time that honestly feels like another life, a time
Speaker 1: when ballet defined her, a time when her ambition to
Speaker 1: perform well and maybe to go pro consumed our family.
Speaker 1: We haven't talked much about it for probably fifteen years,
Speaker 1: and I think there's a reason for that, because when
Speaker 1: Erica left, she closed that door and never opened it again.
Speaker 1: As much as she loved it, she suffered in it.
Speaker 1: At least that's what I think I saw. I was
Speaker 1: so young that it feels like this hazy, distant silhouette
Speaker 1: of a thing that doesn't feel real, like a wild
Speaker 1: dream that I can't fully recall. Curtains opening, Where would
Speaker 1: you have been in the wings? In the wings? Yep,
Speaker 1: getting ready for my first entrance. I love that you
Speaker 1: remember your first entrance. Of course, there you are. Oh,
Speaker 1: are yours out here? I'm sneaking out trying to see
Speaker 1: the presence. We'll look at those pointed feed Wow. I
Speaker 1: look better than I expected somehow. Yeah, you look amazing.
Speaker 1: You're acting with your whole body and moving very gracefully. Wow.
Speaker 1: I'm actually really proud of my dancing in this. I
Speaker 1: think I forgot how good I was at this point.
Speaker 1: Does it bring you back, like, how did it feel
Speaker 1: to be performing the lead role in the Nutcracker? It's
Speaker 1: just so fun. I loved all of those rehearsals, and
Speaker 1: I was always there for a very long time because
Speaker 1: I was the main character, and I did not mind
Speaker 1: at all. It's just pure fun, pure fun, totally worth
Speaker 1: any pain, all right. Being tired or something totally worth it.
Speaker 1: I absolutely loved it. Working on this series has been
Speaker 1: hard on Erica. She's often had a quick aside like
Speaker 1: why am I doing this? Or I don't know why
Speaker 1: I signed up for this. It also brings up a
Speaker 1: lot of what ifs and regrets. Interviewing people and writing
Speaker 1: about ballet every day has made us both realize how
Speaker 1: much her time in ballet is a part of who
Speaker 1: she is. It led to a conversation that honestly, we
Speaker 1: needed to have as sisters from Rococo Punch and iHeart Podcasts.
Speaker 1: This is the turning Room of mirrors. I'm Alan Lance Lesser,
Speaker 1: Part six a golden year, So thanks Erica for finally
Speaker 1: doing this. I feel like it's been pulling teeth to
Speaker 1: get you to sit down and talk about some of
Speaker 1: the stuff. And I'm not sure quite why, but I
Speaker 1: feel like part of it is that you don't like
Speaker 1: to talk about yourself too much. Yeah, I do feel
Speaker 1: self conscious. You feel self conscious? How so? Yeah? I
Speaker 1: mean not maybe not self conscious, but I mean honestly, like, yes,
Speaker 1: I studied ballet when I was a kid, but I
Speaker 1: didn't become a professional dancer. I didn't actually like fully
Speaker 1: commit and go all the way, and so I just
Speaker 1: feel like a fraud. I'm not the person who has
Speaker 1: the most insight into this by like any stretch of
Speaker 1: the imagination, So why would I be talking about my
Speaker 1: own story or my own experience, Like there are so
Speaker 1: many other people who are more important. So you basically
Speaker 1: are experiencing imposter syndrome. I bet Also, if you had
Speaker 1: become a professional, you still would be like, well, I
Speaker 1: wasn't a principal, so my story doesn't matter, like you
Speaker 1: would find any reason to not count your story as worthwhile.
Speaker 1: And the fact is, like you devoted your life totally
Speaker 1: to ballet for years. I know again I can just
Speaker 1: feel you being uncomfortable talking about this. But anyway, do
Speaker 1: you remember what was your favorite performance that you did?
Speaker 1: I don't know, but definitely one of the most meaningful
Speaker 1: to me was the year I was Marie and the
Speaker 1: Nutcracker or Clara. That was obviously a huge deal. It
Speaker 1: was really special because I had looked up to these
Speaker 1: dancers for years who played Murrie. So getting cast as Marie,
Speaker 1: I mean, it's like a dream come true. At age twelve,
Speaker 1: you were twelve. Looking back, it's like twelve sounds so young. Yeah. Wow.
Speaker 1: But by the time I was twelve, I was dancing
Speaker 1: every day, and I was at a school that also
Speaker 1: had this like youth ballet company essentially, and so we
Speaker 1: were performing constantly. WHOA, what's weird is I almost feel
Speaker 1: like I've blocked out some of these memories about how
Speaker 1: much it was that was every day. Jeez. I mean,
Speaker 1: it is true when you're dancing that seriously, you really
Speaker 1: do feel like you have to dance every day to
Speaker 1: keep up what you're doing and to be improving every day.
Speaker 1: At that point, you're so in tune with your body that, yeah,
Speaker 1: when you take a day off, you feel it. And
Speaker 1: I remember one time I took like three days or
Speaker 1: something off and I can't remember if I was sick
Speaker 1: or if our family went out of town for a
Speaker 1: few days, but I came back to class and I
Speaker 1: actually thought I was having an okay class. I don't
Speaker 1: think I felt like I was doing particularly badly. And
Speaker 1: I was standing at the bar in the studio and
Speaker 1: my teacher, who is this Russian teacher who I absolutely adored.
Speaker 1: She had really high standards, which I loved, but at
Speaker 1: one point and she like stopped and I could tell
Speaker 1: she was upset, and she looked at me and she said, Erica,
Speaker 1: Edica like she said it in her Russian accent, like
Speaker 1: you miss one day, you notice the difference you missed
Speaker 1: two two days. I noticed the difference you missed three days.
Speaker 1: Everybody notices the difference. WHOA that makes her sound mean.
Speaker 1: I actually adored her as a teacher, but that really
Speaker 1: stuck with me, and it definitely made me feel like
Speaker 1: it's just not worth it to take days off. How
Speaker 1: did you feel in that moment? Probably embarrassed, but it
Speaker 1: wasn't like a big out of the normal thing, like
Speaker 1: you're used to being called out in class, You're used
Speaker 1: to being corrected in front of everyone. But it was
Speaker 1: more just this very memorable phrase that was a good
Speaker 1: reminder of the importance of staying in class at home.
Speaker 1: The dynamics of Erica's ballet, classroom casting, and technique, it
Speaker 1: all became our form of childhood gossip. I loved being
Speaker 1: in on it. I watched Erica constantly improved and grow
Speaker 1: into this polished dancer, but she'd also come home every
Speaker 1: night in physical pain. I can remember the constant bags
Speaker 1: of frozen peas or footpaths or full salt baths. Sometimes
Speaker 1: Erica would sit in the middle of our living room floor,
Speaker 1: slowly stretching her aching muscles and tending to her wounds,
Speaker 1: and sometimes she just collapse onto this big green recliner
Speaker 1: and just lie there for hours. She always seemed to
Speaker 1: be on the mend. When did you first start having injuries?
Speaker 1: I think the first time I sprained my ankle, I
Speaker 1: was five, And after that first sprain, I was always
Speaker 1: aware of my ankle. I always had ankle problems. And
Speaker 1: the thing is, when you injure your ankle, after it heals,
Speaker 1: it is a little more susceptible to injury. And so
Speaker 1: it just felt like a constant battle with my ankle.
Speaker 1: And eventually it went from like having mild sprains from
Speaker 1: time to time too. I did develop chronic tendonitis in
Speaker 1: my achilles tendons, which I think is like super common,
Speaker 1: but it was really painful and I was experiencing it
Speaker 1: I think at a level that it wasn't like normal,
Speaker 1: and that's what I started seeing a bunch of physical
Speaker 1: therapists for for years. It was such a constant I mean,
Speaker 1: you're always dancing through pain, but you kind of get
Speaker 1: used to it. Always. Yeah, I mean to some extent.
Speaker 1: I do remember one day in particular, it was like
Speaker 1: a Saturday day of rehearsals. I can picture the point
Speaker 1: whose I was wearing. It was a pair of grish goes.
Speaker 1: They might have been like slightly too broken in at
Speaker 1: that point, but we were preparing for multiple performances coming up.
Speaker 1: I just remember that I was cast in a lot
Speaker 1: of things. It was a really exciting set of castings
Speaker 1: because I was kind of cast above my level. But
Speaker 1: the result is that I like didn't get any time off.
Speaker 1: Like I was just constantly rehearsing one after the next,
Speaker 1: and my friends were getting little breaks and I just
Speaker 1: like wasn't getting a break. And there was this one
Speaker 1: piece where we're basically on point the whole time, Like
Speaker 1: the whole thing is that we're burying across the floor
Speaker 1: like the entire dance, so you're like literally never not
Speaker 1: on point. And I had like so many blisters that day,
Speaker 1: and I just was like, oh my god, I cannot
Speaker 1: run this piece one more time, and that you'd be like,
Speaker 1: let's run it again, and I'd just be like please. Now.
Speaker 1: I just remember thinking to myself, my god, this is insane,
Speaker 1: But Also it was like so exhilarating because I felt
Speaker 1: like such a professional because I just like was dancing
Speaker 1: all day and you know, you feel important if you
Speaker 1: like don't have time for breaks, and you do feel
Speaker 1: like an adult. I mean, when you're making those types
Speaker 1: of sacrifices where you're not hanging up with friends, you're
Speaker 1: in the studio and you're dancing through pain, you feel
Speaker 1: like a grown up. And it's partly because the instructor
Speaker 1: to some extent, treats you like a grown up, Like
Speaker 1: the expectations are so high you need to like put
Speaker 1: on your adult behavior. Kind of that's what kids want.
Speaker 1: They want to probably to a certain extent, they want,
Speaker 1: like teachers to have high standards and high expectations or
Speaker 1: to challenge them. Like I do think that that's so
Speaker 1: empowering to not be seen as just like a kid
Speaker 1: who's doing this for fun. It's like, no, take me seriously,
Speaker 1: Like I wouldn't want any less. I would want to
Speaker 1: be treated that way because I took it so seriously.
Speaker 1: And also I don't want my fellow dancers slacking off either,
Speaker 1: because we all want it to be the best it
Speaker 1: can be. Erica really wanted to be the best she
Speaker 1: could in every way, and I remember noticing that desire
Speaker 1: shift to how she felt about her appearance. I want
Speaker 1: to pause here because we're about to talk about topics
Speaker 1: that could be really triggering and even unhealthy to listen to.
Speaker 1: They have to do with body image and include some
Speaker 1: really skewed and unhealthy thinking. And if you feel you
Speaker 1: might be triggered by explicit discussions of body image or
Speaker 1: eating disorders, you might want to stop listening here. There's
Speaker 1: a reason search to suggest that hearing specifics about eating
Speaker 1: disorders could contribute to actual symptoms. I loved so much
Speaker 1: of my body when I was dancing, like I liked
Speaker 1: my feet, I liked my legs. I liked the level
Speaker 1: of hyper extension. I felt like it was a little
Speaker 1: but not too much. I liked a lot of my shapes.
Speaker 1: I loved how I looked in a lot of ways,
Speaker 1: and I was looking at myself all the time. I
Speaker 1: was proud of my body, except for the I wanted
Speaker 1: to be thinner. I just I really wanted bones jutting out.
Speaker 1: But like, where do you think that came from? Because
Speaker 1: I don't feel like it came from you. I thought
Speaker 1: I was too fat starting from age four. Geez, can
Speaker 1: you tell me your first like, why do you say
Speaker 1: age four? What's your first memory of that? I think
Speaker 1: it was four. It could be that I'm not don't
Speaker 1: have the age right. My first memory of feeling that
Speaker 1: I was too fat was not in ballet class, but
Speaker 1: I think it was influenced by dance. There was like
Speaker 1: a stage where we would do cabarets in the summer
Speaker 1: and things. I was on stage and I had I
Speaker 1: was like kind of standing with a sway back. I
Speaker 1: had more of a sway back because like a toddler,
Speaker 1: and I was aware suddenly that my like that made
Speaker 1: my stomach stick out. And that's my first, like very
Speaker 1: concrete memory of wishing that my stomach were smaller, and
Speaker 1: that never went away. I started dance classes when I
Speaker 1: was three, and I mean, I think it's it's hard
Speaker 1: to just stand in a leotard in front of a
Speaker 1: mirror every day as a kid. Do you remember any
Speaker 1: times when a teacher like specifically told you to lose
Speaker 1: weight or implied it in some way. No, that's the thing.
Speaker 1: I don't think I ever had a teacher say, Erica,
Speaker 1: you need to lose weight. No, I think it's like
Speaker 1: very clear that you want to be thin, Like no
Speaker 1: one needs to say that explicitly in class. There was
Speaker 1: just such an awareness that thinness was clearly important. And
Speaker 1: I think sometimes teachers would tell stories about their own
Speaker 1: training that were kind of intended to point out how
Speaker 1: messed up something was, but also inevitably then communicated maybe
Speaker 1: the messed up message to us unintentionally. So like I
Speaker 1: remember one of my teachers who was from Ukraine and
Speaker 1: she'd been trained in Russian schools. She would tell stories
Speaker 1: that a teacher would go and pinch your back, and
Speaker 1: if they could pinch your back and get any kind
Speaker 1: of like fat in the pinch, the teacher would say, oh,
Speaker 1: I see, even having a little too much milk in
Speaker 1: other words, like drinking milk was making them fat. But
Speaker 1: I was like, oh, I guess I don't want any
Speaker 1: pinchable fat in my back. She also would tell us
Speaker 1: stories about how Russian schools worked at the time. You know,
Speaker 1: you're a little girl between age six and ten. I
Speaker 1: don't know the exact age, but if you want to
Speaker 1: get into a Russian school, you go in. You're auditioning.
Speaker 1: At one point, you take off your clothes you're naked,
Speaker 1: I think for the audition often your topless as a
Speaker 1: little girl. And then you also have like a medical
Speaker 1: examination where they measure your body. They might even like
Speaker 1: look at your parents to see how you're likely to
Speaker 1: develop physically, basically saying we only want to admit people
Speaker 1: into our school who have the exact proportions and ballet
Speaker 1: body that we're looking for. Yeah, you're also thinking, you
Speaker 1: know what I cut it in Russia. I don't know.
Speaker 1: I think I remember the teacher that you're talking about,
Speaker 1: and she was I think, amazing in a lot of ways.
Speaker 1: But like also, I feel like to a certain degree,
Speaker 1: there's an element of psychological breeding with that by just
Speaker 1: saying like, oh, listen to how bad I had it,
Speaker 1: or the types of disparaging comments I received. These other
Speaker 1: comments I'm making are nothing compared to that. Yeah, the
Speaker 1: messaging is, oh wow, look how intense that is over
Speaker 1: in Russia, wasn't it? Nicely? Don't do that here? But
Speaker 1: now I have these ideas that I'm supposed to have
Speaker 1: certain measurements in order to be the best ballerina. Now
Speaker 1: I'm aware of that, even if that wasn't the intention.
Speaker 1: I do remember one time you walked in because you
Speaker 1: were always there because you're always having to like with
Speaker 1: mom as she's like driving me to class and stuff.
Speaker 1: But you walked in, and I think she was like, oh,
Speaker 1: you you would be accepted. You ailin? Yeah, you know.
Speaker 1: I even remember she had me do first position and
Speaker 1: she like, I'm not even her student, and she took
Speaker 1: her hands and put them on my ankles and crept
Speaker 1: her hands all the way up to my up my
Speaker 1: legs to my hips, feeling my turnout wow, and literally
Speaker 1: put her hands all over my legs up to like
Speaker 1: my butt, and then was like, yes, you would be
Speaker 1: accepted or something. And I felt so good at the
Speaker 1: time because I mean like I was even totally drenched
Speaker 1: in ballet culture at this point, because I was, you know,
Speaker 1: just watching you all the time. Yeah, And then I
Speaker 1: feel like you were like, oh, what the heck, why
Speaker 1: didn't she say that about me? Yeah? Definitely, every day
Speaker 1: I saw Erica striving for some image of perfection. I
Speaker 1: remember when she got obsessed with the idea that her
Speaker 1: ponytail should be smooth with no bumps. She'd spend what
Speaker 1: felt like forever stuck in a loop slicking her hair back.
Speaker 1: Then checking it for bombs, taking it out, and starting
Speaker 1: all over again. I'd watch her perform these rituals in
Speaker 1: the mirror, the mirrors at home and in the ballet
Speaker 1: studio became a decider of Erica's self worth. There are
Speaker 1: a lot of like body markers, body checking, like just
Speaker 1: things that I think are probably potentially super triggering for people.
Speaker 1: But yeah, I remember, like we shared a bathroom and
Speaker 1: you just had certain rituals of checking yourself in the
Speaker 1: mirror in certain ways that you would do almost like
Speaker 1: repetitively padding certain parts of your body. I would like
Speaker 1: turn and profile to the mirror. I'd like go one
Speaker 1: way and then the other, and I would look at
Speaker 1: my profile, see how then I was. I'd put one
Speaker 1: hand in front of my stomach and one hand on
Speaker 1: my back and go tap tap the other side, tap tap,
Speaker 1: like how then are we today? Yeah? And then you would,
Speaker 1: you know, do that regularly throughout the week, throughout the day.
Speaker 1: I have a memory or two of you actually like
Speaker 1: teaching me the body checking. Not oh God, no, that
Speaker 1: sounds bad, not in like a judgmental god or no.
Speaker 1: I was more like curious, like I would ask you explicitly,
Speaker 1: like what are you doing or like what is that
Speaker 1: supposed to do? What you're doing right there, that specific thing,
Speaker 1: and then you'd be like, oh, well, I just go
Speaker 1: like this and like that to check this, and I
Speaker 1: think it helps with this. And like being a younger sister,
Speaker 1: you know, I kind of looked up to you and
Speaker 1: would almost like you know, be like oh wow. And
Speaker 1: then you had lots of rules about when you could eat.
Speaker 1: And again these were like also explicit things that we
Speaker 1: talked about and that you'd be like, I've heard that
Speaker 1: if you don't eat after X time, it like really
Speaker 1: helps for this for that reason, which I mean didn't
Speaker 1: even really make sense. But my point is ballet had
Speaker 1: permeated our family culture or our family Yeah, and so
Speaker 1: talking about that stuff, even explicitly, it was just like
Speaker 1: oh interesting, got to try that accepted. Yeah. I also
Speaker 1: think there was a lot less awareness of eating disorders
Speaker 1: and what that meant at the time. Yeah, I mean
Speaker 1: we had heard of eating disorders before, but we thought
Speaker 1: like the more extreme versions when someone's being hospitalized for
Speaker 1: an eating disorder. Yeah, at the time, we thought it
Speaker 1: was anorexia or bolimia. And because Alan, you, like you
Speaker 1: were home from summer break or something. In college, you
Speaker 1: were researching eating disorders and you were like, oh, yeah, Erica,
Speaker 1: you had an eating disorder or you had a disordered
Speaker 1: eating of some kind. I was like what, and you
Speaker 1: listed a bunch of things, and I remember you explaining
Speaker 1: what body checking was. And I actively did not want
Speaker 1: an eating disorder, and I knew how dangerous they could be,
Speaker 1: and I was very aware of the dangers of it,
Speaker 1: but I definitely didn't restrict food as much as I
Speaker 1: wanted to be able to restrict food. And then I
Speaker 1: remember with bolimia, like also I did not want bulimia,
Speaker 1: but I did try to throw up on multiple occasions,
Speaker 1: and I just like literally couldn't do it physically. And
Speaker 1: that was probably a really good thing because I could
Speaker 1: see myself getting into that back then. But one year
Speaker 1: I ended up homeschooling because my dance schedule at that
Speaker 1: particular ballet school was so intense that like, I was
Speaker 1: missing a lot of school. During that time, I got
Speaker 1: really into like trying certain foods. So for a while
Speaker 1: I was really into grape fruit and grape nuts, which
Speaker 1: I also thought was funny because it was like the
Speaker 1: word great and both of these foods, and like I
Speaker 1: would eat like a late breakfast because I was homeschool
Speaker 1: so I could do this. I would eat late breakfast
Speaker 1: of like half a grapefruit and some grape nuts and
Speaker 1: then some other snack or food and then you know,
Speaker 1: not eat after my allotted hour and be done eating
Speaker 1: for the day. Wow. And that year, I don't think
Speaker 1: I really noticed it, but I guess I must have
Speaker 1: lost a lot of weight. I remember at the end
Speaker 1: of the year, I was like at the bar next
Speaker 1: to the mirror. We wasn't during class. It was like
Speaker 1: maybe people we're putting their point shoes on or something.
Speaker 1: My teacher said Erica, like, I've noticed your leotards. Look
Speaker 1: your leotard's loose. Your leotard's loose on you. You're looking
Speaker 1: good or something like that, jeez, basically complimenting me that
Speaker 1: my leotard, which I had worn, you know, regularly throughout
Speaker 1: the year, was now loose on me. And I felt
Speaker 1: so good when she said that. Oh my god, Oh
Speaker 1: I was so happy. I was so happy. Around this time,
Speaker 1: I remember how ballet started monopolizing our family life, either
Speaker 1: because Erica wasn't around as much or just because we
Speaker 1: were spending so much time doing things for ballet. We'd
Speaker 1: spend time in the Point shoe store while Erica tried
Speaker 1: on shoes, and our mom and I would help se
Speaker 1: on ribbons. We'd burn the edges with a lit match
Speaker 1: so they wouldn't fray. We'd go to the mall and
Speaker 1: purchase expensive hair pieces or stage makeup that the school requested.
Speaker 1: Then there were the countless car rides and waiting for
Speaker 1: class to be over. I'd write in my childhood diary
Speaker 1: how I missed her, and I just remember Erica around then.
Speaker 1: She seemed down. She didn't have time for hangouts or sleepovers,
Speaker 1: and no matter how she seemed to perform in class
Speaker 1: or on stage, she was always stuck in this same loop.
Speaker 1: Just how much I hated my body and all of
Speaker 1: the emotional consternation around that, and like constant obsession with that,
Speaker 1: It was very tiring. So I was just really knotted
Speaker 1: up inside that year because I just wanted my bones
Speaker 1: to jut out. That's what I wanted. I wanted to
Speaker 1: be bony. But I remember like I'd be like crying
Speaker 1: at home late night. I'd be home from ballet and crying,
Speaker 1: And I remember one night I was crying, and like
Speaker 1: mom and Dad were on the couch and I was
Speaker 1: on the floor, and I was telling them that I
Speaker 1: needed to be thinner, and they were I think they
Speaker 1: were just like, what, like, we don't know what to do.
Speaker 1: And I think around that time they actually went to
Speaker 1: the head of the school and said, like, you know,
Speaker 1: they have parent teacher conferences and they said, you know,
Speaker 1: one of Erica's concerns is that she's worried about being
Speaker 1: thin enough. And you know, really, to the head teacher's credit,
Speaker 1: she said, no, no, she's fine. She doesn't need to
Speaker 1: worry about that. All of the reassurances I needed and
Speaker 1: Mom and Dad passed that on to me, which did
Speaker 1: mean a lot because she had been a principal with ABT.
Speaker 1: She you know, she knew what she was talking about,
Speaker 1: but I think it caused so much emotional weight that
Speaker 1: increased just the general turmoil around this decision of should
Speaker 1: I keep dancing or should I allow myself to do
Speaker 1: some of the other things I love as well. One year,
Speaker 1: Erica got into a prestigious pre professional summer intensive for ballet.
Speaker 1: With this type of program, she'd spend the summer away
Speaker 1: from home, living in a dorm training in hopes of
Speaker 1: eventually joining a company. It should have been caused for celebration,
Speaker 1: but for some reason, Erica just felt dread. I had
Speaker 1: been questioning whether this was the right path for me already,
Speaker 1: and there was a period where I was crying, like
Speaker 1: almost nightly about it. I just felt so torn in
Speaker 1: different directions. I just wasn't ready to give up my
Speaker 1: whole self to it. I've always had a lot of interests,
Speaker 1: too many interests, and ballet had become my whole life.
Speaker 1: But it sort of had become my whole life out
Speaker 1: of default because it required that I was considering quitting
Speaker 1: high school and just focusing on dance. And I loved
Speaker 1: school Alan you know, I was like a total nerd,
Speaker 1: and you know, I was in a lot of pain
Speaker 1: a lot of the time with my multiple injuries. Meanwhile,
Speaker 1: Erica spent a lot of time in physical therapy. One day,
Speaker 1: she went in for routine visit to deal with one
Speaker 1: of her many chronic injuries, and so I remember that
Speaker 1: day in the physical therapist office, we were in like
Speaker 1: a separate room. So usually doing exercises, we'd be in
Speaker 1: this sort of main room where a lot of people
Speaker 1: there were machines, but for some reason we went into
Speaker 1: this other, smaller office room off of the main room,
Speaker 1: and that's when she said, you know, honestly, I'm not
Speaker 1: seeing the improvement that we want, and you're not seeing
Speaker 1: the improvement that we want. And really to get over this,
Speaker 1: I think you're going to need to take three months off,
Speaker 1: take the summer off. I felt like I couldn't miss
Speaker 1: two days, and then she says, take three months off.
Speaker 1: But as soon as she said that, I felt relief.
Speaker 1: I didn't feel sad. I was I was like, yeay,
Speaker 1: I was happy because I instantly knew I was never
Speaker 1: going back and I never did. Whoa did you never
Speaker 1: even go back to class? Like what happened there? I
Speaker 1: think I went back. I went back to one class.
Speaker 1: I don't know why I'm crying. I think it just
Speaker 1: meant a lot to me at the time, and it
Speaker 1: was like one of the hardest decisions I ever made.
Speaker 1: I can't believe I'm crying about this, but I just like,
Speaker 1: I really loved it so much. Yeah you did, and
Speaker 1: it is hard to know that, Um, it feels like
Speaker 1: you're giving it up permanently because you can't like go
Speaker 1: back to that level. But I remember I I went
Speaker 1: back to one last class. I think it was a
Speaker 1: weird class because it was post the school term and
Speaker 1: before the summer intensive starts, and so it was like
Speaker 1: a weird in betweeen limbo classes. How it felt. It
Speaker 1: felt less serious or just slightly less formal, and it
Speaker 1: was a modern class, and I just danced my heart
Speaker 1: out and I had so much fun, and I felt
Speaker 1: so free in the movement. I think maybe also because
Speaker 1: it was modern and we had these combinations across the
Speaker 1: floor that we're just you're jumping in like all directions
Speaker 1: and turning in the air, and I just felt so free.
Speaker 1: It felt so exhilarating. And I remember after the class
Speaker 1: one of my ballet teachers had been watching it for
Speaker 1: some reason, which never happens. And it was one of
Speaker 1: the teachers who's really she's extremely straightforward, doesn't compliment you often,
Speaker 1: can be very harsh, would make people cry in class.
Speaker 1: And what did she say? I used to remember the
Speaker 1: word so well, but essentially she said, I've never seen
Speaker 1: you dance like that, and she gave me this look. Basically,
Speaker 1: what she was communicating to me was you have something
Speaker 1: like you have it like that was amazing, wow, And
Speaker 1: it's like I really was able to put myself in
Speaker 1: it in a way I never had. And I thanked
Speaker 1: her and I felt totally. I felt so free. As
Speaker 1: I walked out that door. I knew I was never
Speaker 1: going back. I wasn't planning to take classes of any
Speaker 1: kind because it was an all or nothing. It was
Speaker 1: all or nothing. I wasn't going to watch my body
Speaker 1: slowly degrade in the mirror. I wasn't going to do that.
Speaker 1: So I was not going back. I felt good about it,
Speaker 1: but it is hard to hear as you're leaving, you know,
Speaker 1: someone communicating like what you're capable of if you decide
Speaker 1: to stay. She didn't know I was leaving either. I
Speaker 1: hadn't told anyone. I hadn't told my teachers, I didn't
Speaker 1: tell my classmates. I basically he left and ever went back,
Speaker 1: and I didn't say goodbye. I didn't say goodbye to anyone. Why.
Speaker 1: I don't know. I'm just curious because I guess I
Speaker 1: don't even know, and maybe you don't know exactly why.
Speaker 1: But like when you just started crying, like what were
Speaker 1: you thinking? Why? What brought that out? I think I
Speaker 1: just really loved to dance. I did. I did love
Speaker 1: it more than anything. Um, I do think it was
Speaker 1: a natural part of me and I and the reality
Speaker 1: is I was like I it really did come from me,
Speaker 1: like I do think that, you know, practically before I
Speaker 1: could walk, I wanted to dance. It made me feel
Speaker 1: connected with music. And I always used to say I
Speaker 1: dance because when I dance, I am the music and
Speaker 1: there's just nothing that feels as amazing as that. And
Speaker 1: so at the time it felt like the biggest, most
Speaker 1: important decision of my life, and it was. It was
Speaker 1: the most central decision at that time for me. But
Speaker 1: this all sounds so overdramatic for like a fifteen year old,
Speaker 1: sixteen year old or whatever I was. But why was
Speaker 1: I crying just now? I think I dismissed it. I
Speaker 1: wish I hadn't said all or nothing, Like I wish
Speaker 1: I had just kept taking a few classes, not in
Speaker 1: the pre professional program and the open division. I think
Speaker 1: it would have been too hard at the time, But
Speaker 1: I wish I had done that. I wonder though, if
Speaker 1: you could have you know, Yeah, I feel like in
Speaker 1: your particular situation, like it was too hard, Like sometimes
Speaker 1: when you have like a breakup or something. You need
Speaker 1: to have time where you're not communicating. Otherwise it's just
Speaker 1: way too complicated. Yeah, you're right, that's totally what it was.
Speaker 1: It was like a breakup. It was really like a divorce,
Speaker 1: so from like a really potentially even toxic relationship, just
Speaker 1: because it was all encompassing for you. Yeah, And I
Speaker 1: do think, like I even get emotional seeing you get
Speaker 1: emotional because I know you so well. And maybe this
Speaker 1: is horrible to say, but I feel like, in some
Speaker 1: ways that was your great love and I don't know
Speaker 1: if you've ever found that in anything else. And I
Speaker 1: think that's why you're crying. Yeah, But the problem is
Speaker 1: that even though maybe that was your great love, the
Speaker 1: cost was too high. Yeah. When I look at my
Speaker 1: sister now, I see a confident woman. She's full of
Speaker 1: life and not afraid to say what she thinks. But
Speaker 1: that took time. For months, maybe even years, after Erica
Speaker 1: left ballet, she often had a more quiet demeanor. She
Speaker 1: kept the slicked back hair, She seemed to trust others
Speaker 1: more than herself. The other thing I wanted to say is,
Speaker 1: like I said that thing about it was your one love,
Speaker 1: But I think that's the way you perceive it. Yeah,
Speaker 1: you're right. Ultimately ballet wasn't enough for me, And that
Speaker 1: doesn't mean ballet isn't enough for other people, But it
Speaker 1: just wasn't enough for me to give up everything else.
Speaker 1: Sometimes I'm not sure what came first, because I started
Speaker 1: dancing when I was three years old? So what is me?
Speaker 1: Because I'm me? And what is me because of ballet?
Speaker 1: I do think ballet does instill this like rigorous, constant
Speaker 1: self criticism where that is your job, and maybe trusting
Speaker 1: how others see you as well more than how you
Speaker 1: even see yourself at times. Actually, now that I'm saying this,
Speaker 1: it kind of reminds me of what Wilhelmina Frankfurt told us.
Speaker 1: Balanchie used to say, you can't see you, only I
Speaker 1: can see you. If that's the messaging you're getting in
Speaker 1: your training, you do learn to trust someone else's perception
Speaker 1: of you more than your perception of yourself. It's funny
Speaker 1: to think how the culture of ballet that's been passed
Speaker 1: down for generations effects not only the professional dancers, but
Speaker 1: the thousands and thousands of little children who learn this
Speaker 1: art form. How many people do you know who like
Speaker 1: danced as a kid, and how many of them may
Speaker 1: have been deeply affected by this culture. It's like all
Speaker 1: these years you're learning to reflect back what other people want,
Speaker 1: and you're learning to look at your reflection and see
Speaker 1: what's wrong with it. All those hours you spend in
Speaker 1: the studio, all of those hours you spend in that
Speaker 1: room of mirrors, It's like that room of mirrors is
Speaker 1: still in your brain, sticks with you next time on
Speaker 1: The Turning? Who decided this? Who decided that you have
Speaker 1: to have twig like arms or legs? Did the skies
Speaker 1: open up and the ballet god said? This is Howard
Speaker 1: host to beat? No, it's just how we've all been programmed.
Speaker 1: The Turning is a production of Rococo Punch and iHeart Podcasts.
Speaker 1: It's written and produced by Erica Lance and Me. Our
Speaker 1: story editor is Emily Foreman. Mixing and sound designed by
Speaker 1: James Trout. Jessica Carissa is our assistant producer. Andrea Swahe
Speaker 1: is our digital producer. Fact checking by Andrea Lopez Crusado.
Speaker 1: Our executive producers are John Paratti and Jessica Alpert at
Speaker 1: Rococo Punch, and Katrina Norville and Nikki e Tour at
Speaker 1: iHeart podcasts. For photos and more details on the series,
Speaker 1: follow us on Instagram at Rococo Punch, and you can
Speaker 1: reach out via email The Turning at Rococo punch dot com.
Speaker 1: I'm Alan Lance Lesser. Thanks for listening.