I have danced many roles that, as a little girl, seemed completely out of reach. In the moments before a premiere, I would often neither eat nor speak – the performance was all that existed. That feeling, when the stage becomes the only reality, is almost impossible to put into words
Ballet has been with me since early childhood – as a calling, a way of life, and a quiet philosophy that shapes each day. For many, it is a world of sacrifice and hardship – and I wouldn’t say they are wrong. Still, for me, there was never another path. I chose this profession with my heart, and in doing so, I irrevocably committed to a dream that never came with an easier option.
Leaving home at the age of just sixteen marked a turning point. That experience – as challenging as it was empowering – confronted me with a reality in which many of my peers, despite their talent, abandoned ballet. Even now, they recall those school days with nostalgia, while I chose to stay the course, regardless of the cost.
Being a ballerina has never been easy. But when you are surrounded by people who believe in you, and guided by mentors who pass on knowledge born from their stage experience, the everyday challenges become manageable – almost invisible. Though the world of ballet can sometimes seem closed and distant, it is in fact a reflection of utter dedication – a state in which everything else fades away.
Moving to Vienna was not an impulsive decision. It was a carefully considered step towards achieving my goal. I met people from all over the world, and every new culture, every new stage, helped shape me. The opportunity to join a professional company straight after graduation was, and remains, one of my greatest achievements. I knew just how rare that was in the ballet world.
Moving to Vienna was not an impulsive decision. It was a carefully considered step towards achieving my goal. I met people from all over the world, and every new culture, every new stage, helped shape me
My first professional days were filled with excitement, with little thought for the future. But as my career evolved, so did my perspectives, my needs, and my inner challenges. I sought new experiences, new choreographic truths. I changed companies and worked under four different ballet directors – each time adapting and building my place from scratch. That process was never easy, but it was inevitable.
I have danced many roles that once seemed unattainable. Before a performance, I would often fast and fall silent – everything outside the production ceased to exist. That feeling, that the stage is the only real thing, is difficult to explain. In those moments, the support of colleagues – who were also close friends – proved invaluable.
Today, I maintain my physical condition primarily through self-discipline, which has evolved over time. I no longer seek rigid routines, but rather strive for a more natural way to stay in shape. Ballet without discipline is unthinkable, but it must never become a punishment.
A ballerina’s life involves constant exposure to criticism. It is an intrinsic part of the profession, and over time I’ve learnt to accept it – not as a threat, but as a form of guidance, because one can never truly see oneself while performing.
Even today, though it sometimes feels surreal – I still dance ballet. I am still doing what I love. I’m fully aware that a dancer’s career is fleeting, and now more than ever, I feel how quickly this microcosm passes. Perhaps some things could have unfolded differently, but what I feel most profoundly is gratitude – for all that has been, and for what still remains.
Photo by Andreas Jakwerth