I have been crying for two hours. And many of you might feel my tears are unnecessary and situation is undeserving. But, for others that have similar journeys, I know you understand I have no control over the emotions that have overcome me. I learned earlier tonight (I started writing this Friday night, 7/30) that our oldest daughter made her dance team. Gosh, such a simple statement…seemingly not important (maybe even ridiculous)…really insignificant in the grand schemes of what is important or should be important in life. But, for our daughter….dance is her world. You take away dance and suddenly there is a loss of friends, pride, joy and expression of who she is. Dance is a small bit of her soul/self-identity at a dark and confusing time in her life. Again, you might pause and think I am being melodramatic (maybe…probably), but dance is our daughter’s art. It is her way of expressing who she is and what she feels in a safe way. Dance has been her life line and her fuel. It is her community of friends and teachers…her strength and courage.

For many it might appear our daughter never tried out for the team….but “magically made it”. She never set foot in the studio that all the others practiced in for two weeks and bravely auditioned behind closed doors. But, our oldest did something truly admirable for a child battling an illness that has left her with debilitating symptoms and uncertainty about who she is and how to confidently proceed. Despite all odds (and without thinking, but instead simply feeling with a heart fueled by passion), she choreographed her own dances by genre and submitted them to her teachers. My husband and I never made a suggestion…never even hinted…we were not even aware until we stumbled upon our daughter in the basement quietly auditioning in the only way she could. She was alone, on her own terms and in a quiet setting she could control. Not because this is how she actually wanted to audition, but the only way her body and mind would allow her.

I reflect back on being a 7th grade girl…age 12. I have always prided myself on being fairly confident, head strong (well, my husband and parents would say I still am…not always a positive comment…laughs) and driven. But honestly, I am not sure I would have had half the courage and determination I see our oldest daughter demonstrate every day despite her fear, anger, frustration and disappointment as a result of her unwelcomed panic disorder. 30+ years later…as a parent…I am SO proud…and exhausted. Our daughter does not always know the road my husband and I pave for her. She does not need to know…and it certainly does not diminish her bravery and courage! I only mention because our daughter’s victory today was a victory for my husband and I. And not because she made the team, but because we worked so hard to protect her from another heartache and loss. And part of that work was prepping her this week that she most likely would not make the team. That too was exhausting and heart wrenching.

Now, the real work starts, well, continues. Our daughter has to face her panic disorder head on…the only way is through. She works every day…chipping away at it….exposing her body to activates that induce the physical symptoms that cause her panic and pain. Think about that for a second. Our daughter walks “toward the fire” everyday despite fear and physical/mental discomfort. In the last couple of weeks she has battled through various panic attacks to walk through her dance studio doors determined to get back on that dance floor. Maybe only appearing to be five minutes for some, but our journey started in the morning and did not end until she went to sleep. Managing through a panic disorder is not simply about the panic event itself. There is preparation, actual panic event and feelings of sadness and loss following an event.

So, to our dance teachers/community…our heartfelt gratitude for believing in our daughter…and maybe even our family. We believe in you and why we continue to entrust you with our daughter and her healing. We recognize that there is still so much mountain to climb and nothing is for certain. But, you have once again given our daughter hope and purpose. I wish I could make guarantees and promises about the future and outcome…gosh, I wish more than anything I could…but I cannot. But despite the uncertainty, thank you for not giving up on our daughter because she has not given up on you or herself. There are dancers and then there are dancers who love to dance. The latter is so beautiful to watch.