Skip to main content



June 6, 2015

Last week, we watched the curtains open to reveal our little girl covered in sequins with feathers in her hair. We watched as she stepped forward attempting to remember the steps she practiced every Wednesday night for the better part of the last year and we watched as she replaced the choreography with her own interpretation albeit blown kisses and emphatic waves, a freedom allowed only to dancers of her age. 

Before she took the stage that afternoon, I watched her mother encourage her and prepare her by applying a toddler sized amount of makeup, a little blush and eyeshadow and some lipgloss, I was told to help her features stand out under the spotlights. I watched her mother pull her hair into a bun and help her into her costume. I watched her grow up before my eyes and realized it’s happening more and more every day whether I choose to acknowledge it or accept it or not.

She hit her marks and looked beautiful doing it. She twisted during her tap routine and stretched during the ballet portion. Her skirt caught the light, sequins shining, while she shuffle ball changed and every layer of her tutu bounced with each pliĆ©. She’s never smiled bigger than she did once she caught our faces in the audience and I’m sure the same could be said for her mother and me. We smiled until our faces hurt and clapped until our hands did the same; we couldn’t be more proud. 

Bravo, baby girl! Bravo.


  1. This is the best!! Thanks for finally sharing ;)

  2. Ahh she looks adorable! I used to teach dance to girls her age and LOVED it. I'm glad you all had a great time, it's such a great experience.

    1. Thanks, Katie! She had a blast and can't wait for next year.


Follow @bradleycowan on Instagram