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Writer's pictureVeronica K

Does Instagram Make You Feel Worse About Your Ballet Body?


Scrolling through Instagram can sometimes feel like stepping into a hall of mirrors for me. As a dancer, I’m bombarded with targeted ads promising to improve my ballet technique, sculpt my body, or transform me into the picture-perfect embodiment of a “fit ballet bod.”


The issue isn’t that these programs exist—everyone has to make a living—but rather the unrelenting idea of the “perfect ballet body” that dominates online spaces. It’s exhausting. And it’s harmful.


Social media amplifies the philosophy of showing only our best sides. While this can seem harmless on the surface, the collective result is a culture of hypercriticism. We compare ourselves to an endless stream of “perfect” images and feel like we’re falling short. As a dancer, this messaging hits especially hard. It whispers: “There’s something wrong with your body. You’re not enough.”



Ballet body
At my lowest weight in college and still not feeling like I looked ballet enough...


Even I’m not immune- infact I fall victim to this often. Despite my commitment to promoting functional movement and injury prevention in my programs, I’ve caught myself thinking, “Maybe if I join this program, I’ll look more like a ballet dancer too?”


But that’s the trap, isn’t it? It’s all just smoke and mirrors. Bodies are different. And the more dancers I work with, the more I’m reminded of how diverse and unique our physical forms truly are.


The Pressure to Have the Perfect Ballet Body

I’m not annoyed with the people showcasing their shredded physiques or flawless technique. Honestly, good for them. Some of them might have an anatomical advantage or an incredible level of discipline. But the issue lies with how social media and the dance world continue to glorify perfection—a perfection that is unattainable for most and unsustainable for all.


This culture creates a toxic cycle. When I see someone with better technique or a more athletic body, I don’t immediately think about their journey or struggles. Instead, I feel hypercritical of myself. My mind races with thoughts like, “Why can’t I move like that?” or “Will I ever look like that?” It’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to the person on the other side of the screen, who’s probably dealing with their own insecurities.


A Wake-Up Call

Years ago, I fell into the trap of thinking I needed to curate a flawless online presence to succeed with the Veronica K Platform. I’d meticulously edit my posts to reflect an idealized version of my life. But over time, I realized I hated my own content. If I didn’t want to see it, why would anyone else?


That’s when I decided to embrace authenticity. Whether it’s messy, awkward, or less-than-perfect, I want my online presence to reflect my genuine self. Unfortunately, I often face criticism from anonymous experts who point out that I don't have perfect feet, a stereotypical ballet body, or the precision of someone trained in an elite ballet academy.


But, I don't care what they think. I want to help people, not intimidate them. I want them to see that I’m human, just like them—not some unattainable ideal.



Ballet body post-partum at 33
3 months post-partum

A Lesson in Dance and Life

One eye opening moment in my dance journey happened in an African world dance class in college. I was struggling with this step, and my self-criticism brought me to the verge of tears. Sensing this, the instructor told me something that stuck: “In my culture, dancing isn’t about perfecting the movement; it’s about expressing yourself.”


Isn’t that what dance is supposed to be? Expression? Art? Yet, so often, the dance world prioritizes athleticism, perfection, and conformity over individuality and creativity. It’s ironic that the same people who champion dance as an art form often perpetuate these narrow standards and box out talented dancers who don't "Fit the mold."


Let’s Be Real

To the dance world, Instagram, and TikTok: I’m tired of pretending we have to be perfect. Let’s stop hyper-fixating on the flawless and start celebrating the genuine. Let’s embrace the bodies we have, the movement we create, and the joy of dance—regardless of how “perfect” it looks.


If you’ve ever felt the weight of comparison while scrolling, know you’re not alone. The next time you feel hypercritical, remember: the person you’re watching likely has their own struggles. Dance isn’t about perfection; it’s about expression. And life? It’s about being human. Let’s honor that, both online and off.







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