From Breaking Point to Breakthrough

Injuries and burnout nearly ended Shiloh Petersen’s relationship with ballet.

But through theater, family support, and a new vision, she redefined what it means to be a dancer and teacher. 

Shiloh Petersen remembers the exact day she quit dance. 

It was a Thursday in September, and she’d just come from the doctor with fresh X-rays showing a long, painful stress fracture running from her toe through her ankle. She’d danced on it for weeks, ignoring the ache, willing her body to cooperate. 

She sat in the car with her mom and said: 

“If this is another major injury… I’m done.”  

That night, she didn’t go to class. She didn’t wrap her foot or push through the pain like she always had. Instead, she told her teachers and friends that she wasn’t coming back. 

After more than a decade of training, countless hours in the studio, and years of building an identity around being a dancer — it was over. 

But this isn’t a story about quitting. 

It’s a story about coming home to the thing you love in a way that won’t break you. 

A Life Shaped by Ballet 

Shiloh started dancing at age 3, not because she dreamed of the stage, but because she couldn’t stop moving. “I was constantly tripping over myself,” she laughed. Her parents enrolled her in classes to help her build motor control — and she never looked back. 

She trained at St. Louis Ballet in a pre-professional environment, watching older company members with wide eyes, imagining herself in their shoes. By eight years old, she was set on becoming a professional dancer. 

Her schedule was intense but familiar: homeschool during the day, dance from 3 to 9 p.m., sometimes followed by theater rehearsal. “I was always practicing,” she said. “Even when I was reading, my feet were marking through choreography.” 

At twelve, Shiloh’s dream shifted. A class called “composition” introduced her to choreography — and something in her clicked. “That’s when I knew I wanted to teach,” she said. “I loved helping other people create. That’s what lit me up.” 

The Injuries That Broke Her Down — and the Mindset That Kept Her Going 

By the time COVID hit, Shiloh had just started pointe work — a huge milestone for ballet dancers, but one that requires timing, strength, and readiness. 

She later reflects that she wasn’t quite ready for this step at the time.

She trained in dead pointe shoes on hardwood floors during Zoom classes, her feet barely supported. Injuries mounted: sprains, tendonitis, broken bones. “My feet were never right,” she said. “It was overuse, constant stress.” 

It wasn’t just her body that was breaking down — her mental health began to spiral. She battled intense body dysmorphia and crushing comparison. “I was sitting out of class constantly, and I felt like I was getting worse, not better.” 

When she moved to a new studio after relocating to Indiana, she was placed in a level that was too advanced — and it only made things harder. “They wanted it to motivate me,” she said. “But all it did was make me feel behind.” 

Still, she kept dancing — even after she broke her foot during a summer intensive and performed on it for three days. “I was terrified to tell anyone,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to get pulled from the show.” 

The Night Everything Changed 

On September 17, 2021, after another doctor visit and another diagnosis — this time, a severe stress fracture — Shiloh made the hardest decision of her life. 

She quit. 

And for months afterward, she felt like she had nothing left. 

“If I’m not a dancer, who am I?” she asked. “I didn’t know who I was without it.” 

Her depression deepened — until her mom stepped in with the kind of support only a parent can give. She signed Shiloh up for theater, against her will. 

“She didn’t ask. She told me I was doing it,” Shiloh laughed. “I didn’t want to, but she pushed me — and I’m so thankful she did.” 

That show, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, gave her back something she hadn’t felt in years: joy. She made friends, rebuilt her confidence, and slowly, began dancing again — on her own terms. 

Creating Something Healthier, Safer, and Stronger 

Today, Shiloh still dances — but in a way that supports her body, not breaks it. 

She teaches ballet to young dancers, leads her college’s dance club, and studies Dance Management at Belmont Abbey College. She’s certified in the American Ballet Theatre teaching method and plans to pursue a master’s in Dance Science in Scotland — all with the goal of opening her own studio one day. 

But it won’t be just any studio. 

Shiloh wants to build a place that centers safety, individuality, and trust. A place where dancers aren’t rushed onto pointe because of their age, or compared against a standard that doesn’t fit their body. 

“I want to work with each dancer’s body — not against it. Every kid deserves to be seen as they are, not who the ballet world thinks they should be.” 

Her vision is rooted in her own experience — the injuries, the missteps, the pressure, and the healing. 

Advice to Her Younger Self 

If she could go back to that 15-year-old version of herself — broken foot, breaking spirit — she’d say this: 

“It doesn’t end here. I know it feels like everything just fell apart. But just keep fighting. You’ll get there.” 

Shiloh did get there — not by following the plan she made at 12, but by rewriting it into something even stronger. 

 What about you?

Have you ever had to rebuild your identity after walking away from something you loved?

We’d love to hear your story—whether you’re in the middle of the shift or on the other side of it. Share in the comments!

And if this story reminded you of someone navigating their own transition, feel free to pass it along. You never know who might need it.