Sometimes parenthood gifts you with moments that feel like those nightmares where you’re showing up to class in your underwear — vulnerable, exposed, trying to play it cool. That’s how I felt at gymnastics today, watching my toddler running off to do her own thing while the rest of the class sat in a circle on the mat and participated. She wasn’t disruptive — just hesitant, curious, off exploring while the others listened to their teacher.

The weight of imagined judgment is heavy when you’re sitting on the sidelines away from everyone else having fun together. She was a bit crabby that morning and every time she melted to the floor crying or wandered off, I caught myself worrying, “they probably think I spoil her, or that I’m too gentle, or that she’s a problem child.”

But I remind myself that this is new to her. She’s not even two. And this was only her second class—really her first, since we missed the last one. Why was I expecting her to get it all right away? And why am I putting us both under this self-imposed magnifying glass?

After I leaned in and went at her pace, I saw my daughter more clearly. She didn’t participate in circle time, but she did gain the courage to try the balance beam off to the side — the skill they worked on in her first class. At first, she needed my help. But after one big jump off the end, she didn’t need it. She was beaming. Proud of herself. Independent. As the rest of the class was playing with sticks and making music, she was off trying something new for her, and that’s a big win.

By the end, while everyone was back in the circle singing the goodbye song, she was trying the pull-up bar for the first time, her face lit up as her head cleared the bar. At the end, she waited by the wall for her green dinosaur hand stamps with the rest of the class, so proud of what she’d accomplished.

She may not be building a relationship with her class or teacher just yet, but she’s deepening her relationship with me. I’m learning how she learns—by watching me, trying things in her own time, following curiosity over structure.

One great thing I appreciate is that the teacher had kept the door open, gently inviting without pressure. And while I was caught up in optics, I almost missed the other parents dealing with tired, crabby kids. It’s normal. We’re all figuring it out.