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Now 44, with two daughters of her own – Phoebe, 13, and Zoe, 10 – body image is a subject Bussell understands all too well. "Things are hard for young girls; it's all about how you look. People are wrong to say you have to be skinny to be a dancer. It's rubbish – as Wayne Sleep is showing us [Big Ballet, his series about unconventional ballerinas, aired recently on Channel 4]. If anything, dancing makes you healthier and happier. My youngest is really into it – jazz, tap, gymnastics – but my oldest likes other things."

Born Marnie Mercedes Darcey Pemberton Crittle, to Andrea, a former model, and John, her late estranged father [Bussell was later adopted by her stepfather, Philip], Bussell joined her first dance class aged five. Her mother signed her up for a Saturday session near their home in Notting Hill, to cure her knock knees and improve her posture – "though I was too young to give a toss about that". It wasn't until she was 13 that Bussell, then enrolled at the Royal Ballet Lower School, began to take it seriously. Having been bullied at primary school, she says dance was "a confidence thing".

"I loved to impress the teacher," she explains. "When I first started, I couldn't even touch my toes. I practised every morning and every night before my exam. Dance became my way of expressing myself – but I wasn't any good back then. Nobody noticed me."

It wasn't long, however, until they couldn't take their eyes off her. She joined the Sadler's Wells Royal Ballet aged 18, and at 20 became the youngest principal dancer in the Royal Ballet School. Bussell went on to dance all the fairy‑tale roles – Odette in Swan Lake, Princess Aurora in Sleeping Beauty, the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker – and guest-starred at the New York City Ballet, Paris Opera Ballet and Hamburg Ballet. In 1995, at the age of 26, she was awarded an OBE.

Was that stage of her life as glamorous as it seemed? "I got a total buzz out of it," she grins. "It was an amazing sense of achievement. But it was a job. I was getting paid – not nearly enough, but the best jobs don't. And of course we were all constantly unhappy because we always thought we could do better. It wasn't all plain sailing and I had plenty of injuries to struggle through."

It all sounds a bit Black Swan, I suggest. "No!" she squawks. "That movie doesn't relate at all. It's not that tortuous. There's definitely a competitiveness in dance, but that's essential; you've got to have drive. Some people do take it to extremes, but generally you don't have time to be devious."

In 2007, having toured the globe and made her name as the archetypal English ballerina, Bussell decided it was time to bow out of public life. An eight-minute standing ovation heralded her retirement performance at the Royal Opera House and, along with husband Angus, a hedge fund manager whom she married in 1997, the family moved to Sydney. Despite loving her new, laid-back life in Oz, it wasn't long before Bussell became depressed.

"I missed dancing big time," she sighs. "I left thinking I'd never have to step into a studio again. I thought I could live one of those normal lives. There were lots of reasons for stopping: I had two kids and the discipline of working six days a week was hard to fit with being a mother. It took me a good year to realise that I needed dance."

Still, breaking free of the life she had had since she was a teenager was liberating, she admits. She had time to spend with her daughters who, so used to Bussell not being around, began calling her "nanny mum". She could finally do all the things unsuited to a career in professional dancing: wearing high heels ("I'm still enjoying that"), ski holidays – and even contemplating a breast enlargement (she didn't). She did some modelling for M&S, a dance tribute show with Katherine Jenkins and a spell of presenting for an Australian TV channel.

But gradually her passion drew her back. In 2012, in front of 750 million global viewers, Bussell made her comeback: floating down from the sky on a flaming mechanical phoenix during the closing ceremony of the London Olympics. "Totally terrifying," she pronounces. "And extraordinary. We had been rehearsing for three months in secret in a parking lot in Dagenham – mostly in wellies because there were so many puddles. When it all came off on the night, it was brilliant."

Her next triumph was Strictly where, after a shaky start (Bussell irritated viewers with her habit of saying "Yah" after every comment), she cemented her role as the only female judge, shoulder-to-shoulder with Craig Revel Horwood, Len Goodman and Bruno Tonioli.

"It's rather difficult not to have fun with those guys," she smiles. "They're incredibly passionate about it, but you do have fun. You can't sit there like a misery guts. I love watching the professional dancers and seeing how their energy reflects on the celebrities. It's fab to see them going for it no matter how nervous they are."

Rehearsals, she accepts, can be very intense – so intense, in fact, that what we've come to know as the "Strictly curse" has broken up many a relationship on the show. "Well!" she exclaims, mock-indignantly, "I survived marriage and I danced with many different men, who were all very beautiful-looking. I never had to betray my man!"

Joking aside, she says, it's shows such as Strictly – and hosts like Sir Bruce Forsyth, who last week announced he will be stepping down after his 11th series – that have got the nation up on their feet.

"It's extraordinary how popular it is – it's one of the only family reality series out there. But it's my world and I understand the attraction."

Today, seven years into her "retirement", Bussell – a youthful vision in a floral blouse, quirky blue glasses and rabbit-shaped earrings – is as trim as ever. She swims and cycles with her children, attends Zumba and Pilates classes and does daily twists on a swivel board "to keep my waist". Is she a health freak? "After I stopped dancing, everything seized up, so I do like to stay in shape. I don't smoke. I enjoy the odd chocolate bar and Diet Coke, but I don't drink coffee. I am probably healthier than the average person, but that's only because of my job."

Bussell has big plans for the future: expanding her over-fifties classes, bringing back dance halls for pensioners, and introducing dance to secondary schools. Will we ever see Britain's favourite ballerina on the stage again? She shakes her head. "I've had my time. There's plenty of talent out there; they don't need me to come back." Not even for a quick tango under the glitterball? She throws her head back and laughs. But she doesn't say no.

For more about Dance for Lifelong Wellbeing, visit rad.org.uk/news/dance-for-lifelong-wellbeing or email info@rad.org.uk