This weekend Meghan performed in her ballet recital. The opening act moved across the stage to Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way,” and as I watched the older dancers, I remembered how certain I had been that she wouldn’t be dancing this year.
Before her first recital last season, Tim and I seriously questioned whether continuing with dance made sense. The commitment felt long for such a short performance: months of classes that culminated in a three-minute number. The costs added up—shoes, tights, leotards, monthly tuition, costume charges and recital fees. When a three-page letter arrived outlining every detail and deadline for the end-of-year show, we both thought this might be our last season.
What changed everything was watching Meghan after her very first performance. She barreled down the long hallway toward us with pure excitement, like adrenaline had taken over her little body. Her grin was wide, and the joy on her face was unforgettable. It became clear that she didn’t just enjoy the class itself—she loved performing.
In that moment I realized my reservations were secondary. The dance commitment no longer felt like an obligation; it was an opportunity for Meghan to explore something she clearly loved.
We enrolled Meghan in dance because she had always moved to music as a toddler. Even on the soccer field at age three, she was more likely to dance up and down the sidelines than to chase the ball. Putting her in a ballet class felt like a natural way to encourage her energy, coordination and love of music.
As she’s grown, her interest in dance has deepened instead of fading. When people ask her what she wants to be when she grows up, she answers confidently: “a dancer.” That kind of clear passion is rare in a five-year-old, and it’s a joy to watch it develop.
It’s amusing to imagine Meghan pursuing dance seriously as she gets older. The world of costumes, makeup and stage hair feels distant from my own tastes, but that’s exactly the point: this isn’t about what I find comfortable. It’s about giving her space to discover what excites her and supporting her choices—even when they’re different from mine.
I don’t know how long she’ll keep dancing. Maybe she’ll stay for a few more years; maybe dance will be a lifelong pursuit. Children’s interests evolve, and at five she has a lot of time to try many things. What matters most is that these activities belong to her and reflect her curiosity and enthusiasm.
As parents, our role is to create opportunities for our children to explore interests like dance, music or sport—and then step back and cheer. Whether Meghan pursues ballet, soccer, or any other passion, Tim, Luke and I will support her, celebrate her efforts and stand in the audience, proud of how she follows her own path.
Watching a child find joy on stage is a reminder that the investment of time, energy and money can be worthwhile when it fosters confidence, expression and passion. Even when logistical burdens or doubts creep in, it helps to focus on the small moments: the run down the hallway, the beaming smile after a performance, the way a child lights up when doing something they love.
For now, Meghan will keep dancing. We’ll keep supporting her. And as the chorus of “Go Your Own Way” played through the recital hall, I understood one thing clearly: letting our children go their own way can be the best gift we give them.