I started dancing at two years old, and from the very beginning, I knew it wasn’t just something I did—it was who I was. By sixteen, I was begging my parents to help me turn that love into a career. At nineteen, I earned my first paycheck as a dancer. I was living the dream I’d held onto throughout my entire childhood.
But by twenty-one, my body began to push back. Injuries piled up, recovery took longer, and the dream I loved started slipping further out of reach. By twenty-three, dancing was no longer possible, and I truly believed my dream was over.
Then, at twenty-five, I discovered a different path—one that allowed me to stay connected to the world of dance while helping others hold onto theirs. Now, at thirty, I’m a clinical myotherapist working with dancers to keep their bodies strong, resilient, and performing for as long as possible—so their dreams don’t have to end the way mine did.
Although I’m no longer in the studio, my love for dance has never dimmed. My passion has simply shifted, and in many ways, I’m happier than ever.
I became the practitioner I once desperately needed as a dancer.
I found my way to myotherapy through my own injury journey. As a dancer, I was constantly searching for someone who could help me heal and get back to the barre as quickly—and safely—as possible. I saw countless practitioners over the years: myotherapists, physiotherapists, osteopaths, and even surgeons. Yet no matter where I went, I often felt misunderstood. It was as though no one truly spoke my language.
That changed when I met the company physiotherapist for Sydney Dance Company during my PPY program. She was a former Australian Ballet dancer, and for the first time, I felt truly seen. She understood not just my injury, but my world. She could explain what was happening in my body and why, which movements would support my recovery and which would aggravate it, and even when during a ballet class I needed to pull back so I could keep dancing the next day.
For the first time, I felt heard by a health professional—and that feeling was incredible.
As my own dance career began to come to a close, I found myself asking the daunting question: what’s next? I knew I couldn’t walk away from dance entirely, but I didn’t yet know how to stay connected to it. That’s when I discovered myotherapy—and a new passion was ignited.
I wanted to be the practitioner I had once searched for. Someone who not only understood the body, but understood dancers. Myotherapists had helped me immensely, but I often wondered how much more powerful that support could have been if it came from someone who truly understood the demands, language, and culture of dance.
So that’s what I set out to become.
The journey wasn’t easy. It was long, exhausting, and demanding—sleepless nights studying and endless hours cramming for exams—but it was also deeply rewarding. And I made it.
Today, I work with people from all walks of life, not just dancers. I get to help people reduce pain, rebuild confidence in their bodies, and return to the things they love most. My background as a dancer—and the many injuries I’ve experienced along the way—allows me to understand my patients on a deeper level. I can genuinely relate to their frustrations, fears, and goals, and draw on my own experiences to help improve their quality of life.
Treating dancers will always hold a special place in my heart. It allows me to stay connected to both of my passions at once—dance and myotherapy. Every patient presents a new challenge, and I’m deeply grateful for the trust they place in me, allowing me to support them in any way I can.
My goal is simple: to help people trust their bodies again - and keep doing what they love for as long as possible.
Book with Bridgette online at www.tsic.com.au