I wrote parts of this post weeks ago and never hit publish. It was going to be really hard to say Ella has decided not to dance this season, so I was trying to be extra careful with my words. It can be hard to share about your life, while also holding moments sacred and trying to protect your daughter’s feelings — all at the same time. As luck would have it (more likely divine intervention coupled with dramatic thirteen year old feelings), I registered Ella for her eleventh year of dance this month. It’s going to look a lot different than the last seven years have, but I’m so grateful that I get to watch her on stage again this season.
I had been writing this post in my head for almost six months and still couldn’t find the right words to describe what I was feeling. It’s not that anyone will care as much as I do, it’s just that dance mom has been such a huge part of my identity for the last ten years and it was hard to come to terms with Ella not being on stage any more.
She told us back in the fall that she was thinking about quitting her competition team — it came out of nowhere and I really struggled to resolve what she was saying with how she performed. The girls at the studio are her family and their mamas are my own and I have tried for months to discourage walking away. As hard as it is to admit, sometimes twelve year old girls get to make their own decisions, even when it’s really difficult for their parents.
I’m not sure why, but dance was really hard on Ella this past year. She was still madly in love with parts of it, but didn’t come home with the light in her eyes that she once did. Practice caused more stress than joy and it required some major encouragement and sacrifice, on our end, to keep her motivated. She was ready to be more involved at school and spend more time with us at home and that meant she couldn’t spend twelve or fifteen hours a week at the studio.
I’m not going to lie — I was thrilled about the hours I would have my girl at home and there were plenty of other things I could live without (last minute costume purchases, anyone?). BUT, I was devastated about not seeing her on stage any more and losing a huge chunk of my own identity. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be the mom who lives vicariously through her children, so I decided to let go and give her any opportunity to make this big decision. Watching her compete this past year, thinking every photo I took was the last of its kind, enduring recital week and all of its headaches — these were especially difficult knowing I might not ever experience them again.
I thought recital week would be hard — we promised each other that we wouldn’t cry until the last minute. We planned to spend those hours having the best time with our friends and enjoying our family supporting her on that stage for the last time. We agreed I would spend the second recital in the dressing room with her, we could cry for three solid hours, and she said I could take as many photographs as I wanted. And then she changed her mind.
The day of dress rehearsal, I got a frantic text saying she might just take one class. This isn’t a given, since most competition level classes have prerequisites and summer requirements. We already knew that cheer camp was the same week as dance team tryouts and that her school sports schedule would greatly impact when she could be in the studio. We told her that we wanted her to think about it over the summer and if she still wanted to dance when registration opened, that we would call the studio and see what we could work out.
She started practice for her senior level, competition tap class last week and we couldn’t be happier. She is home so much more than she has been in years, but she’s still dancing a few hours a week with her favorite people. We are beyond grateful for our studio family and for each of the dancers, moms, and instructors who have made the last ten years so beautiful. I have never taken for granted these moments she’s been on stage or how beautiful it has been to watch her grow and change since we tied that first pair of ballet shoes, when she was two years old. We both know it won’t be the same, but I’m happy we were able to get the best of both worlds for the immediate future.
