When I was growing up, I was a dancer. I started in ballet when I was about 6 years old and continued until I graduated from high school. I toyed with other forms of dance, but it was ballet for me. Once, I tried soccer and I played softball one year in high school. People told me I was fairly good at soccer and I did win “best improved” in softball. But, honestly, I was not an athlete.
When my daughter was young, I enrolled her in dance. Sure, it was nice to have her follow in my footsteps, but she did like to dance. She enjoyed it..until she didn’t. At some point, classes became a chore and she wanted something else. She still enjoys dancing around the house and the rare occasion she can get to the “kid Zumba” class at our gym, but that’s it.
This year, it has become clear that my daughter is that thing I never was…an athlete. She played soccer for the first time this year and loved it. A few weeks ago, she began playing basketball in the rec league and is having a blast. My husband is slightly smug about all this. After all, he was an athlete growing up and this is proof that his little girl is taking after him. As for me, I’m just happy that she has found her “thing.”