Ballerina.

My Mom tried to put me in ballet when I was 6. I remember having to sit in a circle on the first day and play Duck, Duck, Goose. I was shy when I was little. Painfully shy. Some could argue (mostly me) that I still am. I prefer to label it as being Purposefully Reserved, but in truth, I’ve just never done well in social settings, specifically ones that put you front and centre- on.the.spot.

So there I was at my very first ballet class with my stomach in knots, just hoping that no one would pick me as the Goose. I remember thinking and stressing- What if I don’t run fast enough? What if I trip and fall while running? What if I run the wrong way? I don’t remember too many details of my childhood, but the ones filled with paralyzing self-doubt are really ingrained in my memory. Anyways, I was never picked as the Goose. Thankfully. And after class ended, I promptly told my Mom that I was not interested in ballet and with very little argument, she pulled me out of the class and my anxiety melted away.

Most of my childhood was like that- “Do you want to join swim lessons?” No. “Do you want to go into modeling or acting?” No. “You have a beautiful voice, do you want to try singing lessons?” No.

Now in hindsight, I feel terrible. Growing up with 4 other siblings, it’s not like my parents had a ton of money to just put us in anything that we wanted to do. But I guarantee you that if I had asked to join any one of those things, my parents would’ve pulled every string and counted every penny to make that happen. But my agonizing fear often convinced me that it was better to sit on the side lines and quietly blend in than to give it a shot and put myself out there. Vulnerability. I wasn’t into it.

When I found out that I was pregnant the first time, I just knew it was going to be a girl. And I was terrified. I wasn’t worried about not being a good Mom or not knowing how to handle a baby- I knew that my amazing husband and family would help me navigate that journey. No, I was terrified of learning how to instill confidence in my daughter when, while growing up, I had absolutely none. Don’t get me wrong- I figured myself out as I got older and while I continue to grow more and more comfortable in my skin every day, I am definitely proud of my story and who I’ve become. But the journey in finding myself was jaded and wracked with confusion, low-self esteem and self-doubt. I wanted none of these things for my daughter and I worried that eventually, she would experience the same fears that I had and my over-analytical mind needed a plan for how to prevent that.   

But then she came along. And she’s amazing. I don’t care if I’m biased (what Mom isn’t?) but I swear, this kid is amazing. She is everything that I wasn’t at her age - Confident. Adventurous. Brave. Friendly. Affectionate. Thoughtful. Hilarious. She wears her heart on her sleeve and even though I know that she will eventually experience any and all of the fears, doubts and anxiety that I had as a child, I know that her personality and positive outlook on life (yes, even at only 3-1/2 years old) will no doubt help her to power through any obstacle. She faces every new experience and new situation with the confidence that I wish I had.

She started her new Ballet class this weekend and ran into the studio with no reservations or hesitations. Just sheer, genuine excitement. Seriously. I am in awe of this kid. I watched her and kept thinking- I wish I had her confidence when I was her age- I’m sure the world would’ve looked so much more fun.

Here’s hoping that the ballerinas in your life have a wonderfully beautiful week.

Xo

M