We could have all ended up anorexic
Mónica Cruz expone que su profesora de ballet cobraba multas de 100 pesetas a estudiantes que no adelgazaban según sus expectativas. La profesora también era psicóloga y hacía públicos los pesos semanales en clase, creando presión extrema sobre menores en desarrollo.
- Mónica Cruz was 12 or 13 years old when her ballet teacher imposed the practice
- Students were required to bring a weight ticket every Tuesday and fines of 100 pesetas were charged for insufficient weight loss
- The teacher was also a licensed psychologist
- Weights were announced publicly in class
La actriz Mónica Cruz revela en televisión que una profesora de ballet la multaba por no adelgazar a los 12-13 años, práctica que considera peligrosa para la salud mental de menores.
On a Sunday evening talk show, actress and dancer Mónica Cruz recounted a practice from her childhood that she now sees as dangerous—one that, she believes, could have pushed her and her classmates toward eating disorders. The conversation on Zero dramas had turned to the pressure young people face to be thin, a problem she insisted has not gone away despite what some might think. The culture of social media and instant gratification has only made it worse, she argued, especially for teenagers who feel compelled to present a version of themselves that is flawless and controlled.
Cruz was twelve or thirteen when she attended a ballet academy. At that age, bodies are still changing, still developing in ways that are unpredictable and sometimes uncomfortable. Every Tuesday without fail, she and her classmates were required to bring a weight ticket to class—a record of what the scale said. The teacher would announce these numbers publicly, in front of everyone. If a student had not lost weight according to what the instructor believed she should have lost, there was a penalty: a fine of one hundred pesetas.
The teacher, Cruz noted, was not only an instructor in movement and technique. She also held a degree in psychology. This detail seemed to matter to Cruz as she told the story—the woman understood, in theory, how the mind works, how shame operates, how a child internalizes judgment. And yet she had chosen to weaponize that knowledge, turning a classroom into a place where a girl's body became a public ledger, where failure to shrink was failure itself.
Cruz spoke carefully but with visible emotion about what might have happened if circumstances had been different, if the pressure had taken deeper root. "We could have all ended up anorexic," she said. It was not hyperbole offered for effect. It was a statement of fact about what she saw as a genuine risk, one that had been present in that studio and could easily have become a crisis.
The conversation reflected a broader concern that Cruz wanted to name: the problem of extreme thinness, often reinforced by the speed and visibility of social media, has not been solved. It has only transformed. Young people today face different pressures than she did, but the core demand remains the same—be smaller, be better, be perfect. She urged caution, particularly toward young people who are still forming their sense of self, still learning what their bodies are for.
What struck her most, looking back, was the ordinariness of the abuse. It was not hidden. It was not whispered about. It happened every week, in a professional setting, under the authority of an adult who was trusted. The fines were small in monetary terms but enormous in their message: your body is wrong, and you will pay for it. That message, delivered consistently to a child, becomes a voice in her head that does not easily leave.
Citações Notáveis
We could have all ended up anorexic— Mónica Cruz, on the potential consequences of the practice
That problem never went away. There is still a long way to go in that regard— Mónica Cruz, on the ongoing pressure for extreme thinness
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When you say the teacher made the weights public, what did that actually look like? Did she read them aloud?
Yes. She would announce them in front of the whole class. There was no privacy, no discretion. Everyone knew what everyone else weighed and whether they had lost enough.
And the fine—was it meant to be a joke, or was it serious?
It was serious. We had to pay it. A hundred pesetas might not sound like much now, but for a child, it was real money. It was a punishment, and it worked. You felt ashamed.
Did other students talk about it, or was it just something you all endured in silence?
We didn't really talk about it. That was the culture then. You just accepted it as part of training. But looking back, I realize how damaging it was—how it could have gone much further if any of us had been more vulnerable.
You mentioned she was also a psychologist. Do you think she understood what she was doing?
That's what haunts me. Yes, I think she did. She knew exactly how to use shame as a tool. That makes it worse, not better.
What would you say to someone running a dance academy now?
Watch for this. Be aware of how you talk about bodies, especially with children. The stakes are higher now because of social media, but the damage from an adult's words is just as real.