By Josephine McGrail
This is not a story about a little girl who had her doll taken away or wasn’t picked to be queen at the ball. This is a story about how ballet was not only her dream – it was the tonic to her inner turmoil, the perfectly masked pain she had carried ever since she can remember.
Letting go of ballet meant ripping off the plaster that had been temporarily soothing her deepest wounds. It meant standing naked in the depth of my emotions with nowhere to express or make sense of anything. It meant facing her fears and grief head on. One tear at a time. One heartbreaking action at a time. This is her story.
I start my professional life at nine years old, barely big enough to carry my own suitcase, but with enough strength and ambition for ten people.
I arrive at The Royal Danish Ballet, ready to audition along with 800 other hopeful children to enter one of the world’s most elite ballet schools. By luck or pure stamina I manage to get in (as one of only 8!). But where confidence and a sense of achievement should live I feel mainly self-doubt and later on I will spend years wondering if I somehow cheated my way in (pure imposter syndrome).
A the ballet school, I’m told I’m special and that anything is possible if I’m willing to work hard (however they leave out details of just how hard). They do not tell me I will have to pour alcohol directly onto the open wounds on my feet and that my friends will become my greatest competition. That every year, after our ballet exam, the people that I have come to love and whom I spend more me with than my own family, will not return, having become a burden to the school by not developing quickly enough or by showing physical signs of inadequacies that are simply not acceptable in a world of top dancers.
They also leave out that my entire identity will become theirs and how well I do physically will forever determine my sense of confidence and happiness. Or, that one day they will give me a teacher who physically and emotionally hits any leftover self-worth from me to the point where, at age 16, I decide to run away overnight. Not saying goodbye to anyone. Barely stopping to catch my breath or pick up all my belongings from my li le wooden locker. And that I will keep running un l I reach London. Alone and lost. Very, very lost.
Thats what they forget to tell. Or perhaps it was their choice all along.
Fast forward ten years, and I am in my mid-twenties, on paper highly successful: flying around the globe performing with Elvis Costello, modelling for Manolo Blanik and acting in big TV commercials and films.
However, inside I’m falling apart. Not because the jobs aren’t exciting or the people aren’t supportive. But because I have never stood still for long enough to actually feel any of it.
My nervous system is highly activated and I am constantly operating in survival mode. 25 years old and about to enter yet another relationship where I will secretly be planning my escape route just in case.
I used to have a very harsh inner critic that would not “allow” me to receive from life, because of my past experiences. Wouldn’t allow me to be loved, held and supported by life and loved ones. It told me life was a scary place and I couldn’t trust it, couldn’t relax, couldn’t stop and take a moment to breathe.
Our inner critic is created to keep us safe. It sounds counterintuitive, but it is trying to preempt the risks of life and stop you at all cost. Our inner critic wants to keep us alive so badly that it usually keeps us stuck all together.
So what changed? Several things and people: yoga and genuinely good people who believed in me, mixed with heartbreak, anxiety and finally enough challenging experiences.
At my lowest point, I was lying on the bathroom floor, in fetal pose in a terrible flat with way too many people and way too li le love, looking up at the cracked ceiling. My inner critic finally dispersing as my soul stepped forward courageously challenging the old paradigm with the words: “step back, you are no longer in charge here! Life is miraculous and I know there is another fun, loving and exciting way to experience life. I will no longer allow past pain to stop me receiving the love I so effortlessly give. I know that I am limitless and anything is possible.”
It took hitting rock bottom to decide I wanted to live. Not just survive in life, but thrive. It took years of abuse (others and my own inner critic) before something in me shouted – this is not me!
Sometimes your greatest pain becomes your greatest purpose. The second I accepted and owned my wholeness with all of the range of emotions and experiences and no longer judging any of it, I landed exactly where I was always meant to be: a transformational healer and coach. A woman thoroughly experienced in holding space for others pain and challenges, with nothing but love and great respect for them because she not only knows fear, anger and deep grief but has befriended them: invited them to have a seat at the table, knowing they make her whole.
The purpose of life is not to know or fix it all. You are not broken so you do not need fixing. You need love. You need you own self-acceptance. Trust that your feeling is your healing. Know that you are not broken you have not missed your chance of happiness. You can start again anytime any place. And if no one has told you today: You ma er and your joy and happiness matters.
“It took getting to the bottom of myself to decide I wanted to live. Not just survive life. But THRIVE in and with life. It took years of abuse (others and my own inner critic) before something in me shouted THIS IS NOT ME! Sometimes your greatest pain becomes your greatest purpose”.
Josephine McGrail is an empowering wellness coach and the author of The Morning Miracle, Messages of Love, and Fall in Love with You
About the author
Josephine McGrail has over two decades of experience helping people reconnect to their inner power, overcome burnout, and embrace a more balanced, fulfilling life.
A former professional ballerina and contemporary dancer, Josephine has performed across the globe with renowned names including The Royal Danish Ballet, Tim Burton, Elvis Costello, L’Oréal, iTunes and Coca-Cola.
After years of navigating the high-pressure world of performance, she turned to yoga and healing to escape burnout and find peace. She now empowers others to do the same.
