Meet James Whiteside, principal dancer with the American Ballet Theatre, whose tall physique, chiseled good looks and elegant moves make him a classical leading man on stage.

But also say hello to JbDubs, the singer-songwriter whose music videos have gone viral with such dance-happy songs as “I Hate My Job,” “Wallflower” and “The Fanny Bounce.”

And here’s Uhu Betch, too, the sassy dragster and one of the members of a posse of downtown divas who call themselves the Dairy Queens. They are all the same person and show off Whiteside’s multifaceted creativity that can be bold, beautiful and chic.

In the serious and disciplined world of classical ballet, Whiteside, 32, stands out for the other gender-bending and playful aspects of his life that are separate from his main career and yet are still an integral part of who he is.

“All my personas are with me,” says the Fairfield-raised Whiteside during a recent interview at New York’s Lincoln Center, where he has just finished performing in the world premiere of “Her Notes,” by choreographer Jessica Lang. “It all depends on which one I chose to let out of the closet more than the others.”

The Bridgeport-born Whiteside’s strong sense of independence, rebellion and fun began at an early age. His mother insisted that her wild child find an activity that could absorb some of his perpetual kid energy. “I saw an ad in the phone book, and it had a picture of a man suspending a woman over his head with one hand and it looked sort of circus-y, so I thought I’d try that.”

@vegemite #Ühu Dress by @bcallabcalla Photo by @taylortoth

A post shared by Ühu Betch (@uhubetch) on

At the D’Valda & Sirico Dance and Music Centre in Fairfield, he fell in love with the jazz and tap classes because he could dance to pop hits by Michael and Janet Jackson and Britney Spears. He found ballet “boring and forced. ... But at this point of my life I’ve come to recognize how much I love its discipline.”

An out gay teenager, he was the object of “mean kids” at school, he says, “But I was very resilient and had wonderful friends and dancing made me confident and happy.”

Clearly he had talent and received a scholarship at ABT’s summer program when he was in his early teens. “But I wasn’t obsessed with it.” He received a letter at the end of his second summer ending his scholarship. The setback only made his resolve stronger, determined to be better at ballet. At 15 he got a scholarship to the Virginia School of the Arts.

“There I learned I had to focus,” he says. “When I was a teenager in Connecticut, I was slightly wayward. I didn’t try at all in school. I smoked a lot of pot and fooled around with people a lot. The only thing I cared about was dancing.”

At 17 he was offered a scholarship to a summer course at the Boston Ballet. By the end of the term he was asked to join the company, graduating to soloist and finally principal dancer in 2009. But his colorful spirit wasn’t always welcome.

“I remember the first day there I wore a Day-Glo pink shirt, thinking nothing of it other than it was my favorite. But the reaction was, ‘Who does he think he is?’ One of the soloists in the company came up to me and said the shirt was ‘inappropriate’ for the class and I needed to go change. There were a lot of moments like that, and I found myself having to be very apologetic, being sure not to ruffle any feathers, which is what got me in trouble in high school. I didn’t understand the propriety of everything.”

But outside of ballet, life was a ball. For Whiteside, his time as a dancer in Boston was “the college experience I knew I’d never have.” He roomed with pals in the South End and they partied heartily during their off time. One night they formed a drag quartet, calling themselves the Dairy Queens, naming themselves after dairy products. He was inspired by his childhood Yoo-hoo drink and his now-partner Dan Donigan became Milk (and would later be a contestant on “RuPaul’s Drag Race”).

“Uho is unapologetic,” says Whiteside, describing his alt-persona. “I feel she is easily the most cynical and mocking of the group. She really likes to point out the ridiculousness of life.”

He also started making music on his computer in his Boston living room. “I was always fascinated with all kinds of music, but my tastes are definitely pop because I sure do like dancing.”

He even employed his friends from the Boston Ballet to make a music video, “but I quickly realized my vision exceeds my means.” For his next music video, he simplified. Against a white backdrop, he and two friends dressed in white shirts, ties, undies and red stilettos and danced with precise abandon to “I Hate My Job,” a song that was a YouTube hit.

When he heard about an opportunity to audition at ABT in 2012, he hopped a bus at dawn to Manhattan, took a company class “and by the end of the day I was asked to join the company as a soloist.” The next year he was a principal dancer, a triumphant return after being given the door years earlier.

“I was without a doubt the gayest person in this butch atmosphere, but this time I felt incredibly unapologetic. I wasn’t interested in pretending. I just was who I am.”

Whiteside continued to make music even while furiously learning the company’s repertoire. “I don’t know where I find the time for these things, but it’s important to me, so I make time.”

But why a different persona for his music and his drag revelries?

“I didn’t think people would accept that I do all these things, so I separated them. As time goes by, I care less and less if people know what I do because I am exactly where I want to be.”

There may be more aspects of his life yet to emerge, he says. He’d love to be part of a Broadway musical and he’s also interested in commercial choreography and production.

“When I retire from performing, I’d love to be behind the camera. But I wouldn’t limit myself in any way. Simply put, I really enjoy creating, and that’s just what I do.”

Frank Rizzo has covered Connecticut arts for nearly 40 years. He is a theater critic for Variety and has contributed perspectives to The New York Times and American Theatre magazine.