Jessie Diaz-Herrera can fly.
Well, soar. When moving her body through dance, there is no ground — only sky and wind. Whether in her Bronx dance studio or on a screen for thousands of women across America, she is here to set the captives of skinny culture free.
Little Jessie
Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that little Jessica – aka Jessie or “Kika,” to her family – Loved. To. Dance. A literal ball of energy, her parents kept her in every physical activity available – from soccer to softball. “I felt myself most when I was dancing,” says Diaz-Herrera. Even after learning she had ADHD, moving remained her happy place. “Sitting still was an issue for me. I was very active and very social.”
The trio of food, music, and dance took up much of early life. Little Jessie started dancing at the tender age of 4 and continued virtually nonstop until the age of 12. Life was an around-the-clock dance. Studios and lessons by day and salsa dancing in the living room by Brooklyn nights. As time passed, her love for dance – especially ballet – grew deep.
As puberty hit and her body began to change, there was no thought of changing course. It was, however, in her preteens that the curtain closed on her dreams of continuing ballet. An instructor told her she didn’t have the “body for ballet.” Diaz-Herrera describes that as a time her innocence about the world and its thoughts on weight would change. From there, she attempted various versions of unhealthy eating and severe food restrictions.
“I never saw myself as a thick kid until that day,” she says. “I wasn’t even known as the chubby kid back then. I went from thinking my body could do anything to questioning myself.”
Around this time, Diaz-Herrera also started noticing that the world was labeling her by size – replacing years of work she had done to position herself as a dancer. The comments came from doctors, well-meaning friends and family, and strangers. Quite soon after that fateful comment, Diaz-Herrera went on Weight Watchers at age 14. What followed were years of complex eating choices. Even recently, a neighbor asked if she’d considered some of the popular weight loss drugs.
“It took me years to understand: My body, my business,” she says.
My Body, My Health
Movement has been a protector of sorts for Diaz-Herrera. “Dance for me was always a really safe space,” she says. “Even when I didn’t feel good in my body, I felt confident in my mind.”
However, Diaz-Herrera knew she couldn’t stay in the studio forever. Eventually, a world that doesn’t always applaud waited for her on the outside. Sometimes the jeers were from strangers, but sometimes they were close to home and from those who took an oath to protect her.
“Being a curvier woman meant every ailment — even a common cold — was met with ‘you need to lose a few pounds,” says Diaz-Herrera. “I had one fibroid and was told I could prevent future ones if I lost a few pounds. I found it strange, because I have a skinny friend who had 16 fibroids and her weight never came up with doctors!”
Judging Books and BMI
Diaz-Herrera points to gender bias also — rattling off football players and wrestlers who aren’t thought of as unhealthy with pot bellies and excess weight. “Look at these guys — even the coaches, and no one questions whether they’re healthy,” she says. “I’ve been in sports since I was young, and I know you can be bigger and healthier and skinnier and unhealthy. You can’t have one side of the spectrum and not the other.”
Still, Diaz-Herrera describes frustration in this space since she’s always been healthy overall, with lab tests coming back good. “Over time, I realized I was often a victim of medical bias as both a plus-sized woman and a woman of color.”
Medical bias is a prejudicial judgment — done unconscious or not —that drives clinical decision-making. For example, skinny doesn’t always mean healthy, and overweight doesn’t always mean unhealthy.
These days, Diaz-Herrera has rules of the road for doctor visits. “If it doesn’t have to do with my weight, I ask not to be weighed,” she says. “I will ask what the treatment plan would be for someone smaller than me, and I will compare.”
Diaz-Herrera hopes her voice is loud enough in her visits to change a system. “When we know going to the doctor will be a speech about our weight, then we don’t go, then we get sicker,” she says. “It’s a vicious cycle.” She says everyone should be as picky about doctors as they are about other providers. “If my eyebrow lady doesn’t do a good job, she’s outta there! We should have the same (or greater) expectation for our health care providers.” While not on the sidelines, Diaz-Herrera is clear that her doctors are part of her team and they should have the same goal.
Jessie Then and Now
Today’s Jessie has a lot to say to little Jessie. She’d want her to know she’s an advocate for plus-sized women, a defender of peace, and a fighter of stress, and that she now has a beautiful relationship with food.
“The older I get, the more I realize the connection between stress, anxiety, and health,” she says. In addition to a lot of prayer, meditation, and getting alone time when she can as a busy wife and mom, Diaz-Herrera is serious about her “pockets of peace.” After living through a serious health setback a few years ago, she leaves nothing for granted. “I am grateful I get to wake up and experience life each day,” she says. “I interrupt anxiety with gratitude, and it works every time.”
That gratitude extends to the peace she’s made with the plate. “Food is my love language,” says Diaz-Herrera. “But when I was younger, it was always about restriction. Now, I fully embrace my Latino culture.” A culture that values hosting large dinners, bursting with flavors and aromas of good food. Diaz-Herrera is allowing the food and culture of her Puerto Rican, Italian, and Dominican background to shine through — no longer afraid of big, hearty meals.
“I know someone loves me if they want to nourish me,” she says. So instead of taking foods out, her focus is on adding foods in. “How can I add more veggies to meals?” she says, “Or how can I enjoy an occasional slice of cake without guilt?”
Diaz-Herrera’s encore, however, includes empowering little girls who were her age when she felt alone and shameful about her body. She created fitness and wellness events and an eight-week ballet class for girls of all sizes. “This is my love letter to little her — to little Jessie,” she says. “My story is not unique. It’s familiar. I want to make sure my girls (including my daughter) live in a world where they’re celebrated and not shamed — no matter their size.”
Today, Herrera is focused on helping women “free the jiggle” through dance and movement, remember they’re beautiful at all sizes, and that health is much more than a number on the scale.
