When I opened my social media feed, I saw her face within seconds. Then I saw it again. I rubbed my eyes, turned the sound up and replayed the video. "Strictly Come Dancing 2022 Celebrity Reveal. Ellie Simmonds!"
I couldn't stop grinning as I rushed to share the news with family and friends. I felt proud, happy, and hopeful. In my 36 years on this earth, I have never seen another person with dwarfism take part in a mainstream dancing competition.
Memories came flooding back of my own short-lived journey with dance. I went to a former drama school renowned for churning out some of the best dancing talent in rural Norfolk. We did contemporary, ballet and tap as part of our regular school week. When I moved my body to the music, I felt free.
One day, our dance instructor said she would be choosing people to take part in a local competition at the end of class. I broke several sweats trying to impress, but I later found out everyone's name had been put forward except mine. Shortly after that, I quit dancing. In speaking to others in the dwarfism community, it seems I wasn't the only one who didn't fit into dance spaces.
"I remember looking in the mirror at dance class and realising that my arms would never be able to be in the 'right' position - they can't extend fully because of my dwarfism - and that my legs would never be in the 'right' position either because they'd always be bowed and not straight," explains artist Cora Cuthbert.
After auditioning for a dance school, and not getting in, Cuthbert thought perhaps she just wasn't good enough. Cuthbert and I probably weren't "good enough" to be entered into those competitions, because their goal posts were never designed for us.
People with achondroplasia, our type of dwarfism, measure up at around 4ft tall. We're typically quite curvy, and our disproportionately large heads and bums can throw us off balance at times. Dancing as seamlessly as our average-height peers is more than challenging.
Clumsy and uncoordinated as I felt, I still wanted to be part of that exciting journey with my peers. For me, it wasn't about winning, it was about being offered the same experience.
That is why, when the announcement that Ellie Simmonds, retired Paralympic gold medallist, would be taking part in BBC One's Strictly, I felt proud. Although Simmonds is much more graceful than I am, she will undeniably face accessibility barriers while participating in a mainstream competition in which she is competing against non-disabled contestants, and (presumably) partnered with an average height professional.
This is the second-year-running that Strictly has tried to broaden accessibility - last year deaf contestant Rose Ayling-Ellis won with partner Giovanni Pernice, after overcoming hurdles not faced by the other contestants like having to keep in time by counting beats rather than hearing the music. Through Strictly, hopefully Simmonds will similarly be able to shed light on addressing hurdles as she takes the audience through her dance journey.
"I am so happy for her, I feel like they have learnt from the previous year [with Rose] and inclusion of disabled people in dance is improving," says Fats Timbo, a dancer and comedian with dwarfism who has over 2.6 million followers on TikTok. "I think this will help normalise seeing people with dwarfism in mainstream spaces," she adds.
Timbo is now a very successful dancer. She has performed since she was child, but while growing up, she feels she was never allowed to reach her full potential. "When I didn't get big roles, it made me feel like I was pushed into the background. Now, as I have been more successful in my career, especially in dancing online, it has given me the confidence to dance more in public unashamedly."
In the past few years, there has been a noticeable positive shift in dwarfism representation. As well as Simmonds and Timbo's success, disability activists like Shani Dhanda and Samantha Renke have become increasingly visible. It finally feels like representation is becoming more varied, richer - moving beyond the flat one-liners about being short.
"I hope Ellie's presence on Strictly will alleviate many of the presumed limitations people have around [us], where the programme can positively showcase her fantastic talent, personality and tenacity," Rachel Learmonth, who also has dwarfism, says.
Social media has played a key role in giving people from marginalised communities a platform to showcase their talents and interests, and not only does this work to provide multi-faceted representation of disability, it can also secure us work.
"Social media platforms have given disabled people a voice that was previously so ignored," adds Learmonth. "The demand for diversity has increased and I believe social media has played a fundamental role in this, so for programmes like Strictly to showcase an authentic and much more representative group of 'celebrities' is incredibly positive.".
I can testify to the power of social media on a much smaller scale; I am relatively known on Instagram for talking about dwarfism and disability. Timbo agrees that her online platforms have been invaluable in carving out her career. She says: "Without social media, I wouldn't have been given the opportunities as a dancer that I have now."
I am so excited to cheer on Simmonds on Strictly this year and hear more about her dancing journey. I hope this is one of many positive examples of disability inclusion in non-disabled spaces. And I hope that in televised competitions, we all continue to see a much more representative reflection staring back at us.