Beliefnet
Their Bad Mother

Emilia had her first dance recital this past weekend. There really are no words for how it feels to watch your daughter – your little girl! your baby! – walk away from you and then reappear on a brightly lit stage, dancing and stomping her little heart out, dancing and stomping for you and for a vast, anonymous audience.

Is this how it starts? Is it now that she starts reaching out to a world beyond me, belonging to a world beyond me?

She’s the one in the pink wetsuit. You know: the one who breaks your heart.

Oof.

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