Mother’s Day has always carried layered emotions for me. Years ago, while walking through infertility, I remember the ache of watching pregnancy announcements roll in around me. I was genuinely happy for others, yet simultaneously heartbroken for myself. Both things existed at once. It’s the reality of being human.
What I remember just as clearly was how uncomfortable people became around grief they couldn’t fix. Some avoided the conversation altogether. Others rushed to silver-lining statements (UGH. Don’t get me started). And many simply didn’t understand that when someone is mourning an imagined future, even joyful seasons can feel incredibly lonely.
No, infertility and dance auditions are not the same experience. But reflecting back on last month’s Mother’s Day weekend, it occurred to me that there is a profound emotional parallel in what happens during the dance audition season. I found myself revisiting many of those same complex emotions while speaking with families whose dancers did not make the teams they had dreamed about for years.
For these dancers and parents, this wasn’t “just a team.”
It represented years of training, sacrifice, identity, memories, financial investment, family commitment, senior-year expectations, and dreams they carefully built over time. When that outcome doesn’t happen, there is real grief involved, even if others don’t fully understand it.
And perhaps one of the hardest parts is watching the endless announcement posts, commitment graphics, celebration dinners, and social media highlights while quietly carrying disappointment behind the scenes…simultaneously still wanting to celebrate both the joy of one’s own senior year milestones and authentically show up and support their friends who did make teams. That pesky “being human” part.
If this is your family right now, I want you to know two things:
First, your heartbreak is valid.
Second, this moment is NOT the final measure of your dancer’s story.
At CDL, we have walked alongside dancers whose paths did not unfold according to their original timeline or plan. Some eventually made teams they never initially considered. Some discovered programs that fit them better academically, emotionally, financially, or artistically. Some grew tremendously through the resilience that disappointment required of them. And many found that what felt devastating in one season ultimately redirected them toward opportunities they could not yet see.
Disappointment deserves to be acknowledged honestly. But disappointment and defeat are not the same thing.
For parents especially, I also want to gently encourage this: your child does not need you to erase the pain. They need you to help them navigate it.
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give our dancers is not immediate reassurance or problem-solving, but simply the steady reminder that their worth was never fully contained inside any audition result.
This season may not look like what your family envisioned.
But June is a time of transitions, the story is still unfolding…
Ramona Kitching
Program Director, College Dance Launch