Some kids are content to sit quietly in the back row. Mine? She wants the front, the center, the badge, the title—basically, the spotlight. She wants to be the class leader, the dancer in the middle of the stage. And honestly? I don’t blame her.

The tricky part is… when those opportunities don’t come her way, she ends up looking like the “jealous child” or “attention seeking” to others. But I know her heart. She isn’t jealous—she just wants to be seen.

The Little Wounds That Got Overlooked

For years, my daughter has wanted to be class leader. She’d raise her hand every time, only to be turned down. Once, she came home and said,
“Teacher gives discipline badges to kids. I didn’t get one—even though I didn’t talk in class. Why, Mama?”

I shared it at open house as a lighthearted comment and moved on. But she didn’t. She quietly carried it with her.

And then, it showed up again.

At our clubhouse, her friend planned a dance show and invited my daughter to join. They practiced, but since the steps were fast and my daughter couldn’t keep up, her friend turned it into a solo. My daughter came home feeling so rejected.

I tried to lift her spirits. I choreographed a slower, simpler dance just for her. She was thrilled—until her friend dropped by and asked to learn it too. I started teaching both girls, and suddenly my daughter’s smile faded.

Later she told me: “Why is my friend so good at everything, and I’m so bad?”

My heart sank. To me, both girls are equally talented, but my daughter has carried the weight of all those missed chances—and now every rejection feels bigger than it is and her mind keeps telling “You are not good enough”.

What I’m Learning as Her Mom

1. Her feelings are real.
   It doesn’t help to say, “Oh, don’t be silly—you’re amazing too.” Instead, I’ve started saying things like:
   “I know you wanted this to be your solo. I can see how much it hurt.”
   Sometimes, kids just need us to sit with their disappointment instead of brushing it away.
2. I need to give her safe stages at home.
   So now, she gets to “host” game night, introduce dinner, or perform a dance just for family. These moments may feel small, but they give her the spotlight she craves.
3. Opportunities outside school matter.
   Not every child gets recognized in the classroom. And that’s okay. I’m looking into dance classes, drama clubs, or even sports—places where she can shine without waiting to be picked.
4. Resilience is a muscle.
   I’ve started teaching her that even leaders don’t get chosen every time. Together we practice lines like: “It wasn’t my turn today, but I’ll try again next time.”
5. Leadership is more than standing in front.
   When she encourages a friend, helps out at home, or comes up with a new idea, I make a big deal about it. She needs to see that “shining” isn’t always about applause.

The Big Lesson for Me

I’ve realized my daughter doesn’t just want to lead—she wants to matter. She wants to feel like she’s good enough, like she’s capable, like she belongs at the center sometimes.

And maybe the best thing I can do as her mom is remind her that even when she’s not holding the badge, the microphone, or the center spot… she’s still my star. 🌟