I have a very beautiful headcanon that Jody was a ballerina before she got married
To elaborate on her childhood and youth in general, I imagine Jody being born into an upper-middle-class or solidly middle-class family. Her mother was surely deeply immersed in the ballet world—perhaps a former ballerina herself, now working as a choreographer and teacher for children's groups (though she openly despises her work). Jody's mother had a hard time getting along with children in principle; she had a difficult pregnancy that frayed her nerves, so much so that one could set her off just by breathing nearby. So why did she even have Jody? Well, it was the result of a fleeting, passionate romance in her youth with a fellow theater artist who eventually ran off with a younger lover, accusing Jody's mother of "letting herself go." This story of her mother's will later resonate deeply with an adult Jody.
Life with her mother was a constant game of Russian roulette. That life left its mark: Jody is perpetually anxious, terrified that something will go wrong. The alternative to this domestic minefield was a ballet boarding school, which was essentially a bubble where a child is locked in a ballet vacuum from morning till night, deprived of strength and time for anything else. Although Jody found the boarding school somewhat calmer, she didn't make any close friends there.
The question of whether Jody actually loved ballet was rhetorical. Jody was born in pointe shoes. Not by her own choice, but because they were put on her, and she never spoke out against it. In her teenage years—a time when you desperately want to be someone—she was obsessed with ballet, but it was a brief flash of passion. The rest of the time, she had no "like/dislike" opinion about ballet. It would be like asking a person if they enjoy drinking water or breathing air.
Jody was not a prima ballerina. She didn't even want to be one, though her mother actively tried to push her into that spot (connections, you see). But Jody was a confident soloist. Not a first soloist or a prima with leading roles, but with her own distinct parts (like one of the little swans in Swan Lake or the dolls in The Nutcracker). It sounds like a source of pride, but how much of that title was her own merit and how much was the pulling of her mother's strings remains an open question—one Jody doesn't want to delve into.
The topic of youth and preserving beauty is an extremely painful one for Jody. This fear stands on several pillars: her mother's fate, abandoned after she became "unattractive" (although in reality, Jody's biological father was just an irresponsible asshole); beauty standards in general (and Jody habitually sets the bar too high for herself); and the very structure of ballet, where after 30 you are considered old (and because of the ballet school vacuum, you willingly or unwillingly fuse your identity with ballet entirely. So the crisis of uselessness after stopping is very palpable). Jody takes meticulous care of herself. The number of jars of creams and other skincare items on her vanity is countless (and in my headcanon, she definitely has a vanity, because for Kent, her preening is nothing more than feminine whims, since Jody has never once told him about her anxieties regarding her appearance. Like: "It's not a man's concern"). She diligently maintains her figure, especially through diet. And in a bad way—especially through diet. Yes, that's an eating disorder. But that's a separate topic I'll delve into some other time. Probably after I lay out my headcanon for Kent, because her disorder manifestly reveals itself through their dynamic.
As for how Jody and Kent even got together, I think it happened before Kent joined the military. Kent is a person absolutely removed from the glitter of the theatrical stage, so he definitely wasn't sitting in the audience, spotting Jody from the stalls. And he couldn't have run into her on the street by the theater, because Jody's entire life schedule was "Home — Ballet Studio — Home — Theater — Home." I think Kent was just working odd jobs at the theater at the time. He had neither money nor romantic skills or flirting ability, but he knew how to show affection through actions (helping out, carrying something, watching out for you, fixing things). For Jody, around whom empty flatterers were always buzzing (and she was very distrustful of men, afraid of repeating her mother's fate), this was very telling and touching. As their relationship developed, they literally had to fight for their right to be together against Jody's mother, who was vehemently opposed. (Not so much out of egoism—though can the fear of being completely abandoned be called egoism?—but out of worry for Jody's fate. It's true that Jody's mother was an unstable bitch, but that's only one side of the coin. The other side was a lonely woman who repeatedly snapped at her child, causing the child to literally shrink away into corners, while Jody's mother couldn't bring herself to approach and apologize.) Getting back to the "war" over their relationship... "fighting together" is a strong way to put it... Kent fought, and Jody stood beside him mute, because her lifelong exhaustion with this whole circus was off the charts. If earlier she could suppress her fatigue with training, when she got together with Kent and he covered her head to toe with his care through deeds, her exhaustion could no longer be ignored. In her relationship with Kent, she finally allowed herself to just be a woman who is cared for, protected, and provided for as best he can (Kent didn't have much money back then, but he was a bright and hardworking guy) with nothing asked in return but her presence. Although, sometimes even presence wasn't required. Kent would come by her window on his own, even if it was out of his way. Jody finally let herself relax, and when during yet another conflict with her mother, Kent simply took Jody by the elbow and said, "We'll manage on our own. We don't need you anymore," and led her out of the house—Jody followed him. She was just tired. And even her mother's eyes, deeply filled with pain as Jody left, said nothing to her. Though Jody wasn't obligated to listen to them anyway. What followed was a shared apartment, marriage, pregnancy, maternity leave, and... well, I suppose I'll leave the rest for another post. This one is already far too long, and I'm starting to feel a bit awkward writing so much. A strange feeling. As if I'm sharing something very personal and silly.