Dance Pictures

I knew it was going to be a stressful experience for my daughter. I had prepared her for the posing and the photographer, but I didn't know exactly what things would be like since I hadn't brought a child to take dance pictures before. When we arrived, she immediately started getting upset. We had to walk past a handful of strangers and then into a room where 15 or so teenagers were changing their costumes. My daughter changed into her costume and moved closer and closer to me as her anxiety grew. She wouldn't speak to her friends or their moms. When it was time for pictures, I had to walk her down the stairs, and attempted to pry her off my leg. She wouldn't budge. The mom that was in charge of pictures asked the dance teacher if I should come in with my daughter. Maybe she would make it okay if I was in the room with her, right?

As each of the cherubs took their pictures in their charming Belle tutus, tears silently rolled down my daughter's cheeks. With each advance toward the photographer, her tears increased in size and frequency. Finally it was her turn. The photographer could tell she was upset, so he asked me to walk her to her position. The dance teacher peeled her off of my leg, and I backed up next to the photographer. I watched my daughter turn into her teacher's arms and heard her begin to cry. They made funny faces; I waved; everyone tried to get her to relax and take a picture. After what seemed like forever, I had to remove myself because I beginning to cry as well. I felt embarrassed, saddened, and worried. Then I realized that making my daughter stand in front of a room full of people, terrified and sobbing, was a ridiculous idea. I walked to the photographer and announced that it was enough. We were finished. I held my daughter and comforted her, my five-year-old going on fourteen who had come so far since last year.

We watched as her class took some great pictures together, and I hoped that she realized photographers don't hurt people. I knew we still had to make our way back to the changing area, passing many people, and I wished that I had brought all of her stuff with me when we went to take the pictures. Just as it was time to leave, her teacher approached me. I apologized for the meltdown and reminded her that my daughter's anxiety might just prevent her participation in the recital next month. The teacher's face morphed into a look of pity, and then she quietly proceeded to inform me that I was the problem. My daughter would be fine if I hadn't worried about it. I was shocked. I numbly got my daughter changed and started driving home.

By the time I reached my home, my shock had turned to anger. I realize I have the tendency to be overprotective of my children, but my daughter was truly terrified. Her previous life experiences included trauma that leads to anxiety in new situations or places in which there are lots of people. This situation was both of those things. I did not create my daughter's trauma, and I certainly don't perpetuate it. In fact, my husband and I have worked very hard to help her come out of her shell and make great progress. Besides making me feel ashamed for my parenting skills and the behavior of my daughter, her teacher demonstrated to me just how uninformed people are about the realities of how trauma affects children's brains. My daughter was not embarrassed or shy or something like that; she was terrified. Her teacher knows my daughter's background, but she doesn't understand the implications. As much as I would like to think we have settled into being a "normal" family, there are some things that will be unique to us and incomprehensible for people outside of this type of experience.

What did I learn from this experience? I need to trust my instincts. Once it is clear my daughter is not ready for something, I need to be her advocate. I wouldn't make a child who suffers from PTSD because of a near-drowning experience swim in the deep end unaided; why would I expect a child who suffered trauma and is fearful of strangers to enjoy smiling in front of 30 people? Next time, I will be prepared to push my child to try new things but never to push until she breaks. She cried for one and a half hours that day, and it was 100% preventable.