In an interview series, we offer a behind-the-scenes look at the world of dance, where passion, ambitions, and challenges converge. Today, we share the story of Jozefien Debaillie, a dancer at Scapino Ballet Rotterdam. How has her journey through the dance world unfolded? What important lessons has she learned as both a professional dancer and a mother?
Written by Lara Sala
“I wish everyone found something that gives them as much as dance gives me.
Then the world would look much more beautiful.”
Jozefien and I take a seat in the shared lounge of the company. She is on her lunch break and today is her last day before the summer break. I look into her kind, open face.
And after today, 4 weeks with your little ones?
A warm, relaxed smile appears on her lips. “It’s so beautiful. It gives me so much. It’s so nice to come home to my little ones. After giving birth, it was quite intense, and I didn’t always find it easy with myself, so I would take a baby bath by lying in bed with my little ones. Those three cute, sweet little bodies around me gave me so much good.”
When I became a mother, my life gained immense value. How has that been for you?
“Having my children is very special and life-changing. I suddenly became very close to myself. I dance in colors, and with motherhood, my color palette expanded, from primary colors to all the shades in between. At the same time, there was also a kind of clarity, as if I went from sketches to clear lines. I also became more sensitive, so my skin is less thick. Injustice, war on TV, or a mean comment, it hits much harder. At the same time, I feel that it has also brought me closer to my own truth, and I can clearly feel when something isn’t right or when I encounter a ‘no’ in relation to others or my work. You could say that both the beautiful and the less beautiful have been magnified. My life has become richer.”
How does that work for you after 3 children? Do you still wear a tight ballet outfit or do you wear looser clothing now?
“Yes, I have a softer belly, and my breasts hang lower. My body has done all of this for me, I think I look beautiful,” she says, and with a big smile, she looks at me.
I smile along with her, filled with joy from so much feminine strength.
Jozefien continues; “My body still does a lot for me, so I don’t want to go back to the idea that it has to be tight. I don’t know if everyone accepts that, but I don’t want to have problems with it. I think of myself as a human, and I simply don’t look like a twenty-year-old who hasn’t had children. By the way, I don’t think that’s something we should strive for.”
“It’s normal for us to grow older and to change. This should also be accepted in the dance world.”
What a liberation that you give yourself this.
“But it has had its ups and downs. Sometimes I do feel doubt, but then I really try to convince myself, ‘No, you are right.’ It’s normal for us to grow older and change, and that should be accepted in the dance world as well. It’s also a societal issue. Why do we have to stay young and youthful? That’s not the reality.”
You’re trying to change this while being in the dance world. I think that’s very impressive.
“Yes, I feel good now. But when I don’t feel well, that critical voice sometimes comes back.”
What is that voice made of?
“I think about all the memories from the past. The demands of the training. Everything that everyone ever said to me about my body, which secretly made me very angry. I think you don’t have the right to say something about my body. You don’t know who I am, you don’t know what’s going on in my head or what I’ve been through. Things were said like, ‘Your arms are too short, your legs are too short, your nose is too crooked.’ It can be incredibly hurtful. It’s a subjective taste, and as a dancer, you can’t do anything about it. These are ridiculous comments that, unfortunately, were made.”
“As a dancer, you come into a moment where someone is going to decide, ‘I think you’re beautiful or not.’ I find that very difficult.”
“I always say, it’s a mutual flow. The choreographer is the one who has the artistic vision. We portray it. Without dancers, there is no choreography; without a choreographer, there is no dance. And we all have rights and duties.”
“The audience probably wouldn’t mind if we offered them a more diverse image of body shapes.
Everyone has the right to their own taste, but your taste shouldn’t jeopardize my health. I’ve fortunately never had an eating disorder, but I did have a distorted view of myself because someone, when I was 12 years old, told me I was too small and too fat and not suited to be a ballerina.”
But why would someone even say that?
I realize I’m standing up for the child in Jozefien – and all the children who, in 2025, are still standing in a ballet class. Full of dreams and working hard.
“Probably, the teacher was also treated that way in the past, but we shouldn’t continue what we’ve experienced. It’s an important task to change that. Dancers who go into teaching should first work on their own issues before they start teaching.”
You’ve been dancing at Scapino Ballet Rotterdam for 12 years now, a wonderful company that suits you well?
“I’m now a senior, and I’ve been able to build a trusting relationship with the team. It’s not like I have to prove myself anymore. Through my long career, I have been able to deepen myself both as a dancer and as a person by performing beautiful roles. I have also received a nomination for a Swan award. I’m doing reasonably well now. I see it as my task to clarify the path to more peace, happiness, and contentment for other dancers who want that. Because it’s not something that’s given. And in addition, I just want to enjoy dancing.”
I think you draw a lot of strength from your self-acceptance. The strength to decide not to do something if it doesn’t feel right for you?
“Yes, I’m already doing that. For example, a few months ago, someone asked me to run for 10 minutes through the studio. I said, ‘I just gave birth, I really can’t run for 10 minutes.’ And it was accepted. But for many dancers, it can be difficult to stand up for themselves, to not do what is asked. It can have unpleasant consequences, like missing out on a beautiful role.”
Have you experienced anything that felt unsafe for you?
“Yes, absolutely. And especially when I was younger. The training as a teenager was completely unstructured in terms of knowledge about nutrition and health, and there was no constructive support for the students. I worked incredibly hard and got the feeling of never being good enough. I was told there that I wasn’t suited to be a ballerina. Try standing strong when that is said to you as a teenager… it’s undermining. Fortunately, there were a few good teachers, but I also felt there were many frustrated teachers. Teachers who weren’t in balance and hadn’t made it as dancers but were still teaching. I still see this happening. People move into teaching after their dance career without having gone through any teacher training. They may have their expertise, but a good teacher needs other competencies beyond just being a dancer. It would be a win-win situation if there were retraining programs for dancers who want to go into teaching. That way, they can reflect on what went wrong in their training and gain new insights into how to handle students. Both the students and the teachers would benefit. I also think it would be inspiring to meet people outside of the dance bubble. We could learn from each other. Look, everyone carries trauma in life, and it shapes who you are. But it shouldn’t be caused by the people teaching you the craft.”
And you’ve seen that?
“Yes, absolutely.”
Both with yourself and others?
“Bullying, instilling inferiority complexes in people, body shaming, victim blaming, accusations of sexual misconduct, covering it up. No one left there without a distorted relationship with food and a distorted self-image, including me, and that’s despite the fact that I love myself and food.”
Are you referring to the ballet academy in Antwerp?
“Yes, at least that was the case twenty years ago.”
And how did you find it at Codarts?
“In Antwerp, there was a very rigid atmosphere with an ideal image of a dance artist, and I was always the odd one out. At Codarts, I was also ‘odd,’ but that was true for everyone there. There wasn’t one way to be artistic. For me, Codarts was a revelation. It was freedom and creativity. I felt there was space to process the negativity I had experienced in the first few years. For me, it was a wonderful time with special people, exactly as I had always imagined the art world. The combination with the music students was incredibly enriching. I let go, broke free, experimented with everything, and then I could refocus and get serious again. But people are people, and even at Codarts, it wasn’t utopian. There was sexual misconduct, but the people involved were held accountable for it.”
Was there a place where you could address the things that didn’t feel right for you?
Jozefien shakes her head. “They were secrets.”
What could be done preventively?
“If we all learn to speak up in a safe, trusted setting, then secrets would be less likely to form.”
“Yes, share more,” Jozefien responds. “But also, give people the tools to build self-confidence. I’m a dancer. I am here, and I have the right to be here without having to cross my boundaries.”
What does dance mean to you?
“Dancing is the red thread in my life. It brought me to Rotterdam, a wonderful city where I live and work with great joy. Through dance, I have met lifelong friends, and through dance, I also met my husband, who is also a former dancer. Our beautiful family came from that. I’ve had difficult periods; like when a company suddenly stopped, and I lost my job, or when I had to go through other hard times. At those times, I texted someone: ‘I need to dance again, then everything will be okay.'”
“I wish everyone found something that gives them as much as dance gives me.
Then the world would look much more beautiful.”
“At home, I’m together and share myself with the people around me,” Jozefien continues. “But dance is truly mine! I can be a mother because I also have dance. After giving birth, I really longed to dance again. I dance mostly for myself. I think it’s fantastic that there is an audience that shares in my experience, but the essence is mine. Yes, I really dance because it makes me feel good. I wish everyone found something that gives them as much as dance gives me.
Then the world would look much more beautiful.”
I look at Jozefien. A vibrant, passionate woman and loving mother.
And a beautiful dancer.
Photographer: Olga Ibattulina
Performance: Rizonanza choreographed by Ed Wubbe
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