The ballet world is mourning the death of Dancing with the Stars’ Michaela Mabinty DePrince, an inspirational ballerina who beat staggering odds to become one of the world’s most famous dancers.
Michaela, an orphan from war-torn Sierra Leone, was a dancer with the Boston Ballet who gained widespread notoriety after starring in the 2011 documentary First Position. She died September 10 at only 29.
Adding to the family’s tragic loss, Michaela’s adoptive mom – who rescued Michaela from the filthy shelter where she was told she was “too ugly” to find a family – died only 24 hours later.
After her father was brutally killed in war-torn Sierra Leone and her mother died from fever, four-year-old Michaela Mabinty DePrince was abandoned by her uncle in a shelter where staff every day tried to break her spirit.
Known then as “Number 27” a young Michaela had little hope of finding a family as she had vitiligo, a condition that causes patches of skin to lose pigmentation.
The young girl, called “the devil child” because of her patchy skin, was told repeatedly that she was too ugly to be picked.
“We were all ranked from the most favored to the least, and I was at the very bottom for being rebellious and having a skin condition called vitiligo, which produces white freckles on my neck and chest,” Michaela said, adding she slept on a grass sleeping mat with “Number 26.”
Aside from the vomit-stained nightgown she was wearing, all she had was a magazine, which according to Glamour had (literally) blown onto her face. And on the cover was a ballerina en pointe – a dancer supporting all her body weight on the tips of her toes.
“The dancer looked beautiful and happy, that’s what caught my eye,” Michaela tells Glamour. “I wanted to be happy.”
And the crumpled old photo of the ballerina was the first thing she handed Elaine DePrince, who took her to her new home in New Jersey.
“There was so much love right away,” said Michaela, who over the next two decades would be the prima ballerina on the cover of magazines. “I had never been surrounded by something like that.”
‘My life is proof’
Michaela’s passion for dancing was ignited at a young age, and she pursued her dreams with remarkable dedication.
In 2011, Michaela became one of the stars of First Position, a documentary that followed six gifted dancers leading up to the competition for a place in the prestigious American Ballet Theatre’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School of Ballet (JKO)
She not only earned a spot but was also awarded a scholarship to study at JKO.
The same year the award-winning documentary was released, Michaela also appeared on Dancing with the Stars.
“My life is proof that no matter what situation you’re in, as long as you have a supportive family, you can achieve anything,” Michaela said.
In 2012, the talented ballerina joined the renowned Dance Theatre of Harlem, where she continued to shine as a rising star. Her exceptional talent and grace later led her to the Dutch National Ballet, where the War Child Ambassador further established herself as a formidable presence in the ballet world.
While she was living in Amsterdam and training for The Nutcracker, she received a call, inviting her to travel to New Orleans and dance in Beyonce’s hour-long video, Lemonade, which was released in 2016.
Speaking with the Wall Street Journal of meeting the pop sensation, Michaela said, “She walked up to me and said, ‘It’s such an honor to have you here.’ I was really cheesy and said, ‘The honor is mine.’ I was on cloud nine.”
‘Beacon of hope’
On September 10, her family released a heartbreaking message about the principal soloist with the Boston Ballet.
“Rest in Power,” the post starts about the dancer who died on September 10. “With pain in our hearts, we share the loss of star ballerina Michaela Mabinty DePrince, whose artistry touched countless hearts and whose spirit inspired many, leaving an indelible mark on the world of ballet, and beyond.”
The Facebook post describes Michaela as an inspiration who “stood as a beacon of hope for many, showing that no matter the obstacles, beauty and greatness can rise from the darkest of places.”
The cause of her death has not yet been released.
Mom ‘spared the pain’
Only 24 hours after Michaela’s sudden death, her doting adoptive mom Elaine DePrince died on September 11 “during a routine procedure in preparation for a surgery.”
A family statement on Facebook explains that at the time of Elaine’s death, she was unaware that her daughter had died.
“As unbelievable as it may seem, the two deaths were completely unrelated. The only way we can make sense of the senseless is that Elaine, who had already lost three children many years ago, was by the grace of God spared the pain of experiencing the loss of a fourth child.” The message continues, “What the family is going through right now is truly unimaginably painful. Grieving two family members who died within a 24-hour period is tragic and devastating. We continue to ask for privacy…”
Rest in peace Michaela and Elaine. Please share your thoughts with us and then share this story so we can all send a lot of love to the family and friends of this mother-daughter duo.
After My Divorce, I Was Bullied by My Ex-husband’s Family – They Were Taught a Harsh Lesson by a Person I Didn’t Expect
Teresa thought she had it all with Shawn, her high school sweetheart turned husband. But as his ambition faded, so did their marriage. Following a bitter divorce, Shawn’s family turned vicious. Just when Teresa thought she couldn’t take any more, an unexpected ally stepped in, demanding justice.
If you had told me in high school that my life would turn into a melodramatic soap opera, I would have laughed in your face. But here I am, sharing my story because sometimes you just have to let it out.
A thoughtful woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
It all started when I fell for Shawn, the star athlete of our high school. Picture this: he was everything you could want in a guy. Tall, charming, with a smile that could light up a room.
He had big dreams and this incredible zest for life. I was hooked from the moment I saw him, and somehow, he fell for me too. We were that couple everyone envied—young, in love, and full of plans for an adventurous future.
Our marriage was straight out of a romance novel at first.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
We traveled as far as our meagre salaries allowed, took risks, and built a home filled with love and mutual respect.
We would lie on the roof of our first tiny apartment, watching the stars, dreaming about the places we’d go and the things we’d achieve. Those were the days when life felt like an endless summer.
But then things changed. Shawn changed.
A woman peeking over a man’s shoulder | Source: Pexels
It wasn’t overnight—it was a slow, creeping transformation. He landed a job at a local factory, and I could see the light in his eyes dimming day by day.
Our evenings, once filled with planning our next adventure, turned into him zoning out in front of the TV after his shifts.
“Shawn, we need to talk about our plans,” I said one night, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.
A woman glancing to the side | Source: Pexels
“Later, Teresa,” he mumbled, not even looking away from the screen. “I’m just so tired.”
“Later” never came. The dreams we shared seemed to evaporate into the air like smoke. I felt trapped in a life that wasn’t mine. I voiced my discontent repeatedly, but Shawn just kept promising he’d change.
He never did.
Our conversations turned into arguments, the resentment building up like a dam about to burst. One evening, after yet another fight about his lack of ambition, I realized something had to give.
A man leaning back on a sofa | Source: Pexels
“I can’t do this anymore, Shawn,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m filing for divorce.”
His eyes finally met mine, a mix of shock and sadness. “You don’t mean that, Teresa.”
But I did. I packed my bags and moved out the next day.
Walking away from my marriage was heartbreaking, but the divorce went through with minimal animosity. At least, at first. That changed once his family got involved. They quickly turned my life into a nightmare.
A downcast woman | Source: Unsplash
They were relentless. Shawn’s mother, Diane, spearheaded the harassment campaign with a ferocity I never thought possible.
It started with whispers in our small town, vicious rumors about me cheating on Shawn, and accusations of infidelity that spread like wildfire. I could feel the eyes of our neighbors on me, judging, condemning.
My reputation was dragged through the mud, and it hurt more than I could have imagined.
Then, the vandalism began.
A woman with a fearful look in her eye | Source: Unsplash
I woke up one morning to find my car keyed from the hood to the trunk. Someone had etched a selection of unrepeatable cuss words into the paint alongside the jagged scratches. It was a message meant to shame me, and it worked.
I felt a sick knot in my stomach every time I looked at it. But the harassment didn’t stop there.
One day, I came home to find my front door covered in graffiti—ugly, hateful words that made my stomach churn.
A woman hiding her face in her hands | Source: Pexels
The worst came at work. Diane’s brother, a burly man with a temper, showed up at my job and started a scene. He accused me loudly of ruining Shawn’s life, and when I tried to defend myself, he knocked over a display, creating chaos.
The management, tired of the drama, fired me on the spot. Just like that, I lost my livelihood.
I felt so alone, isolated from the friends who believed the lies Shawn’s family spread about me. My confidence was shattered, and I spiraled into a dark place.
A depressed woman staring into a mirror | Source: Pexels
Each day was a struggle to get out of bed, to face the world that seemed to have turned against me. My dreams of a fresh start felt like a distant memory, almost unreachable amidst the constant siege of cruelty.
Despite everything, I clung to the hope of starting anew. I had to believe that there was light at the end of this tunnel, that I could rebuild my life even after it had been so thoroughly dismantled.
It was the only thing that kept me going, the flicker of hope that I could one day leave the nightmare behind and find peace again.
A woman with tears running down her face | Source: Unsplash
One gray afternoon, there was a knock on my door. Not the friendly, soft kind, but a hesitant, almost reluctant rapping.
I opened it to find Shawn, his mother Diane, and his two brothers standing there, looking like they’d been dragged through hell. Their eyes were red, faces streaked with tears. It was a sight I never thought I’d see.
“Teresa, please,” Diane started, her voice trembling. “We’re here to apologize. We’ve been so wrong.”
I stood there, dumbfounded.
A woman shocked speechless | Source: Pexels
The people who had made my life a living nightmare were now on my doorstep, begging for forgiveness. The shock was palpable. I felt like I was in some twisted dream.
“What is this?” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why now?”
Shawn stepped forward, his usual cockiness replaced with an expression of genuine remorse. “Teresa, we messed up. Big time. We’ve seen how wrong we were, and we’re truly sorry.”
A remorseful man | Source: Pexels
“Sorry?” I repeated, incredulous. “After everything you put me through? You think ‘sorry’ is enough?”
Diane started to cry, covering her face with her hands. “We know it’s not enough, but we want to make it right. Please, Teresa, we’ll do anything.”
My mind was racing. I didn’t know if I could trust them. Why the sudden change of heart? But their desperation seemed real, and despite everything, a part of me wanted to believe them.
A woman pulling a face | Source: Unsplash
I crossed my arms, trying to steady myself. “Why now? Why are you suddenly so sorry?”
“We just… we’ve seen the error of our ways,” Shawn stammered. “We want to make amends.”
I stared at them, my heart pounding. Their vulnerability was disarming, and against my better judgment, I felt my anger start to melt.
“Fine,” I said finally, my voice shaking. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t erase what you’ve done.”
They nodded, tears streaming down their faces, thanking me profusely and promising to rectify the harm they’d caused me.
An elderly woman crying | Source: Pexels
I shut the door, feeling a strange mix of relief and suspicion.
Later that evening, my phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but I answered anyway.
“Teresa, this is John, Shawn’s father.”
“John? What’s going on?”
“I’ve just found out about everything that’s been happening,” he said, his voice stern and steady. “I am furious and ashamed of my family’s behavior. I’ve made it clear to them that if they don’t make things right, they’re out of my house. This is not how I raised them.”
A woman making a phone call | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Their desperate apology wasn’t just about guilt—it was about survival. John’s ultimatum had forced their hand.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, sinking into my couch. “So, they were threatened into apologizing?”
“Yes,” John admitted. “But I believe they are genuinely sorry as well. I’ve made arrangements for them to publicly apologize, repair the damage they caused, and compensate you for your job loss. I’ll be overseeing everything personally.”
A woman on a phone call | Source: Pexels
For the first time in months, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, John. This means a lot.”
“It’s the least I can do, Teresa. Respect and honor are everything to me, and what my family did was disgraceful.”
The next few days were surreal.
Shawn and his family followed through on their promises. They publicly apologized, standing in front of our small community and admitting their wrongdoings.
A community gathered together | Source: Pexels
It was both embarrassing and cathartic to watch.
They repaired my car and even helped me find a new job. Slowly, the weight of the past months began to lift from my shoulders.
At long last, this awful chapter was finally closing. I could move forward without the bitterness that had consumed me.
It wasn’t just about their apology or the restitution—it was about reclaiming my life and my peace. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I could breathe again.
Here’s another story: Colleen believed she knew everything about her husband until she accidentally overheard his therapy session. Michael’s startling confession revealed his darkest secrets, destroying their 12-year marriage and leaving Colleen to pick up the shattered pieces of their family.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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