Jessica’s Story

When control takes over your freedom. Jessica’s story about ideal standards, eating disorders, and finding her way back to herself.

In this interview series, we offer a behind-the-scenes look at the dance world, where passion, ambition, and challenges intersect. Today, we meet Jessica Kaasschieter (33). Her story begins with a childhood love for dance and theater and unfolds into a training environment where that passion gradually turned into a battle with herself—until her body could no longer keep up.

“‘I would tell my younger self: ‘You’re a badass. YOU ROCK!’ Despite everything, I kept standing. I’m proud of that.”

The Spark

Jessica’s love for dance began early—she was just four years old. But the real turning point came when she saw The Lion King at age eleven.

“The magic, the singing, the way the audience was completely absorbed—it captivated me. Something lit up inside me that never went away.”

In high school, that spark turned into a clear direction.

“During a German class, this loud man suddenly burst into the classroom and climbed onto a table. He turned out to be an actor and performed this incredible monologue. Then he said, ‘Do you want this too? Sign up for the youth theater school.’ His name was Edgard Geurink—I still remember it. The next day, I signed up. It felt like coming home.”

Despite her love for the stage, Jessica initially chose a different path after high school and enrolled in nursing school.

“After one week, I knew I had to leave.”

During a gap year, she completed a preparatory program and was then accepted into the Academy for Musical Theatre (Song & Dance) in Zwolle. She later continued her studies at the Koningstheater Academy in Den Bosch and took additional classes at Fontys University of the Arts in Tilburg.

But especially her first program in Zwolle came at a cost.

“The Profession” with a capital P

The joy fades when Jessica reflects on her time at the academy.

“The craft suddenly became ‘The Craft,’ with a capital C. The bubble was intense. It took me a long time to feel any sense of ease in it.”

What once felt like freedom—singing, dancing, acting—became rigid and structured. Jessica, who had always been deeply connected to her intuition, noticed how physical demands and performance pressure slowly eroded her sense of self.

“No one talked about it. Not classmates, not the school—no one.”

And she didn’t give herself the space to pause either.

“My mindset was: just keep going. And that mindset had consequences.”

The Ideal

Jessica began to associate what was expected of her with success—and with a specific ideal: the perfect body, the perfect voice. It became the standard she constantly measured herself against. “I started the program with a fuller body, and in my mind, losing weight felt encouraged. Very quickly, it became an internal battle.”

She began losing weight early on. At first, it felt like control. But gradually, it turned into something far more compulsive. Between her second and third year, things escalated. “I went on a dangerous crash diet. In nine weeks, I lost a significant amount of weight. It was alarming, but I wasn’t aware of that at the time. People called me ‘Jessica 2.0’ and praised me. Visually, it looked ‘good.’ I said I was happy, and people believed me.” Because it seemed to align with the ideal, no one questioned it.

From the outside, Jessica appeared successful and happy. Internally, she was developing a severe eating disorder: anorexia nervosa. “The weight loss affected everything. My balance in dance changed. My voice stopped functioning the way it used to—it felt like I was stuck in the wrong gear. I couldn’t access the breath support I used to have. While on tour, I started experiencing physical symptoms. We’d eat together as a cast, but I couldn’t tolerate the food anymore. Carbs would give me heart palpitations—I hadn’t eaten them in weeks. I never talked about it. The desire to stay thin was stronger than the discomfort. I told myself: this is part of the job. And whenever I doubted it, I’d whisper to myself, ‘You chose this. This is your own fault.’”

The Cost of the Ideal

What Jessica believed her “ideal” body would bring—confidence, strength, success—turned out to come at a painful cost. “I thought being thin would give me confidence and power. The opposite was true. My body stopped functioning. I was constantly cold. My muscles weakened, even in my face. My voice didn’t work the way it used to. At times, I even lost control of my bladder because my pelvic floor muscles weren’t functioning properly. I didn’t feel strong or protected—I felt the opposite. It didn’t bring me success. Mentally, I was completely stuck. That realization hit me hard.”

The body she believed would carry her forward became the very thing that forced her to stop.

When the Body Draws the Line

Jessica held onto control over her eating for nearly ten years. “If my body hadn’t intervened, I think I would have kept going. That urge was that strong.”

It wasn’t until 2020 that she asked for help. Shortly after publicly sharing her diagnosis, her classical ballet teacher reached out. “She had seen it from the beginning, even in my first year. But I was so convinced that I couldn’t succeed in this field with a fuller body that nothing got through to me. The support she gave me during my recovery—and still does—was incredibly important. She said, ‘I’ve always known you were struggling. I’m here for you. You can ask me anything.’ She understood what I was about to go through.”

That marked the beginning of a new chapter. “You suddenly have a whole team around you. You’re weighed weekly. Therapy starts. Everything changes. It’s confronting.”

At first, the treatment didn’t fully land. “Much of it was online, and that made it easier for the eating disorder to stay in control. When sessions moved in-person, it became clear how unwell I really was.” She was given an ultimatum: commit fully to recovery or treatment would stop and shift to inpatient care. “It was a very dark time. I was depressed, had little desire to live, and felt uncertain about the future. I spent a lot of time in bed. Winters felt unbearably cold.”

What ultimately moved her forward was seeing the impact on her loved ones. “I started eating again slowly. At first, not for myself, but because I couldn’t bear seeing my family in pain. I felt so much guilt—why couldn’t I just be normal? Why couldn’t I just eat?”

She set a goal: a six-week intensive treatment program in Portugal, part of a longer trajectory with BeLeef. “I wasn’t allowed to go right away. I needed to reach a certain weight first. With a body that weak, you can’t participate in such an intensive program. Something shifted. I followed my meal plans, did trauma therapy, and created a relapse prevention plan.”

That program proved transformative. “If there’s one treatment I would recommend to anyone, it’s this one. They work with ceremonial exercises and experiential therapists. That combination helped me truly understand my eating disorder—and slowly let it go.”

Finding Herself Again

Recovery, for Jessica, went far beyond physical healing. “At the academy, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore and became dependent on other people’s opinions. During recovery, I slowly started finding my way back. That would never have been possible without the right therapy.”

Last year, she was invited back to Portugal—this time as a lived-experience expert. “I write with clients, do theater exercises, and watch them open up. That lived experience helps so much—nothing they say surprises me.”

She has also recently begun training as an integral holistic massage therapist. “There’s so much healing in those sessions as well.”

Achterdoek

To process her story, Jessica created the short documentary Achterdoek together with filmmaker Anna Salhany. In it, she reflects on her struggles and searches for deeper understanding of how they developed. The film is now being integrated into education—Fontys’ musical theater program will include it in their curriculum next year.

Making the documentary brought her back to dance. “For the first time in years, I danced on stage again. When your body hasn’t been able to do that for so long, and then slowly regains that ability—it creates so much appreciation.”

Her perspective on her body has fundamentally changed. “I used to hate my body. I blamed it for everything. Now I see the opposite is true—my body saved me by forcing me to stop.”

“You rock!”

Without her old coping mechanisms, life feels more intense—but also richer. “My eating disorder numbed everything. If something was too painful, I could push it away by not eating. Now I feel things more deeply again—and I actually value that. You won’t break me that easily anymore.”

And what is she most proud of? “That I made it. That I found myself again. I would tell my younger self: ‘You’re a badass. You rock.’ Despite everything, I kept standing. I’m proud of that.”

What do you need?

To young dance students facing similar challenges, Jessica offers one simple but powerful question:

“What do you need? Take time to reflect on that. Stand by it. Trust your foundation. That foundation will be tested—through both positive and negative experiences—but it remains the core of everything you go through, in your training and in your career. You are still there within all of it.”

And for anyone who recognizes themselves in her story: “There is always help. There are places you can turn to, like BeLeef and Proud2Bme. But most importantly: you don’t have to do this alone. You can do it together.”

Foto’s: Isabeau Bosscher

Do you recognize yourself in Jessica’s story?

If you recognize thoughts, feelings, or patterns—whether in yourself or someone around you—know that support is available.

• Eetstoornissen Netwerk provides information and support for individuals with eating disorders and their loved ones. Their care map helps you find specialized providers across the Netherlands.
• Stichting Kiem offers professional guidance and recovery-focused support programs.
• (W)eet wat je doet supports athletes and dancers in finding a healthy balance between training, nutrition, and recovery, and provides access to a specialized care network.
• K-EET iis a national network focused on improving care for children and adolescents with eating disorders.
• The Dutch Academy for Eating Disorders (NAE) works to improve prevention and treatment and provides resources for both individuals and professionals.