The 5 Stages of Grief in Dance Injuries
I was in my second season with Missouri Contemporary Ballet. I had just been promoted to company member and was coming off an absolute high from our Fall performances. We didn’t perform The Nutcracker at MCB, so the company was on layoff for the whole month of December. When we came back in January, we had just a week of rehearsals before we headed off to New York to perform at the Jazz at Lincoln Center. It was my first tour as a professional dancer and I was absolutely smitten to be performing in such an iconic venue.
It was maybe the third day of rehearsal back when I went into a sauté and felt a tell-tale twinge. I immediately knew I had torn my calf muscle. As any dancer knows, there’s not much you can do in pointe shoes without the use of your calf muscle. At this point, I should have immediately pulled myself out of the tour. But that’s not what happened.
We often think of injuries in terms of physical pain. In that sense, it should be pretty straightforward. Either your body is going to physically allow you to dance or it’s not. What we forget about is the immense emotional pain that occurs as well.
If you’ve ever experienced an injury, you’ve likely also experienced the 5 stages of grief associated with any kind of trauma. The five stages of grief model was originally introduced by Swiss-American psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. It describes a series of emotions experienced by people who are grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
How does this all play out in terms of a dance injury? Here’s my experience from that fateful rehearsal day in January:
Denial
"I'm not really injured, I just tweaked it a little."
"It's not that bad."
"I just need to shake it off."
"It hurts a little, but I can still dance."
When I initially pulled my calf, I tried to walk it off. I thought if I just rested and took it easy in rehearsal for a day or two, I would be able to perform. The craziest part is that I had sustained this exact injury on the other leg about 2 years earlier and it had taken me out for four months. My practical brain knew exactly what was happening and knew there was no way I would be able to dance. But in the moment, my emotions took over and kept me in complete denial.
Anger
"Why did this have to happen to me?"
"It's so unfair that I got injured right before my first tour as a professional dancer."
"Nobody understands what I'm going through!"
Once it began to sink in that I was injured, I got mad. This was my very first tour as a professional dancer, and the fact that we were headed to New York City made it sting even more. I was angry and frustrated that I was injured…but at this point, I was also still in denial. I knew that dancing was going to be incredibly difficult and painful - it was not going to be the joyful experience that I had dreamed of. However, I was still holding on to the hope that dancing would be possible.
Bargaining
"If I can just get through this performance, then I'll take time off."
"I can still do it if I just change all the choreography to the other foot."
"If I can dance this one time I'll never take my health for granted again."
I was still not going to admit defeat and bow out of the performance. For one, we were days away from leaving and we didn’t have any understudies headed on tour with us - in my mind, there was no other option. I was going to have to go on stage. So I started bargaining with myself, my Doctor, and my Director - I know I’ll be in pain but once the adrenaline kicks in I’ll be able to dance. I’ll have time to rest and recover after this performance.
Depression
"My dancing will never be the same again."
"I’m missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime.”
"I'm not going to get my contract renewed if I can't dance this show."
Finally, the moment of truth came. We were backstage at our first tech in NYC and my Director pulled me aside. She realized that I was unable to make a rational decision at this moment and needed to step in. I had to finally come to terms with the fact that I was not going to be able to dance and we were going to have to rework the choreography. I felt like I had let absolutely everyone down, including myself. I was so disappointed to miss out on this opportunity. I was also concerned about my future with the company - this felt like a catastrophic failure. Would I be asked back again the next season? I was spiraling.
Acceptance
"I have an injury, but it is temporary. My body is amazing and it will recover. I need to give myself time to heal. I will work with my doctors to develop a treatment plan and come back to dancing when I am ready. It's hard right now, but it will be the right choice in the long run."
We got back from New York and went back into rehearsals for our next performance. I was taking it “easy”, staying off relevé and not jumping. But it still kept getting worse. Finally, my then-boyfriend (now husband) sat me down and had a tough conversation with me that amounted to “You have to take time off.” As a former D1 athlete and one of the most determined people I know, his words really hit. If he thought I was pushing too hard, maybe I needed to reassess. The next day I walked into my Director’s office and told her I needed to take time completely off from dancing. It was scary - I was still worried about my future with the company and the repercussions of being out for months. But I could finally see how I was harming myself out of fear. I sought treatment and began to get the help I needed to heal.
The biggest lesson I learned from this experience is how important it is to have another professional in your corner to help you make decisions. We’ve been so conditioned to push through the pain and we are so emotionally invested in our dancing that it can be difficult to think clearly in moments of distress. it’s OK if you need your doctor or physical therapist to step in as the “bad guy” to make the tough decision.
I also learned It is rare to move through these five stages linearly. I experienced ups and downs, circled back to previous emotions, and even experienced multiple stages at once. We’re all going to process grief differently and that’s normal. Give yourself time to feel your emotions and know that just as you need to seek help for the physical injury, you may need to seek help for the emotional trauma you are experiencing as well.
One of my favorite resources to find a medical professional who understands the nuances of what you’re going through is Doctors for Dancers. With a quick search, you can find a medical provider in your area who specializes in working with dancers.
You may feel like you want to curl in a ball and wish it all away (I know I did!). But ultimately the best thing you can do for yourself is ask for help, trust the advice of your doctors, and give yourself grace as you work to rebuild both physically and emotionally. You are not alone in this!
Meet the Author
Caitlin Sloan is a Dance Educator and Career Mentor based in Madison, WI.
Caitlin received her Bachelor of Arts in Dance from Grand Valley State University and Graduate Certificate in Nonprofit Management from the University of Missouri.
She danced professionally for nine years with companies including Ballet Tucson and Missouri Contemporary Ballet (now Mareck Dance). Caitlin has taught at schools all over the Midwest, most notably serving as Director of The School of Missouri Contemporary Ballet and Youth Company Director for Central Indiana Dance Ensemble. She is currently on faculty at the School of Madison Ballet.
Caitlin founded The Brainy Ballerina® in 2019, a virtual resource providing support and guidance for aspiring ballet dancers. Follow @thebrainyballerina on Instagram for your daily dose of dance career guidance and inspiration.
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