The 8 a.m. rush at the Borges household is always a whirlwind, but this year, one morning stood out like no other. ‘Click, click, swoosh, swoosh’ echoed across our concrete slab, subfloor, and freshly sheetrocked walls as Dahlia, my 8-year-old daughter, emerged from her bedroom. It was just after 7:30 a.m., and there she was: silver high heels clicking on the floor, a floor-length red ballgown adorned with jewels, and a smile so bright it could guide a plane safely to the runway.
Our home was still in the midst of renovations. We had no furniture, and I was post-op, spending nearly 20 hours a day face-down on a cot, fighting a rare ocular tumor. My husband, Shawn, was holding down the fort, keeping the house and our lives together while I recovered. So seeing Dahlia strut into the room like a mini Hollywood star, with chipped toenail polish peeking through her sparkling shoes, my first thought was, “She must think it’s Saturday.”
Where did she think she was going? Was there a wedding I had forgotten? Should I have a last-minute gift ready? Groggy and still half-entangled in my post-op fog, I checked my phone to confirm it was indeed a school day. Phew. Not just any school day—it was the monumental, once-a-year, highly anticipated THIRD GRADE PICTURE DAY.
I reminded Dahlia that Daddy had picked out a perfectly coordinated Cat & Jack shirt, leggings, and brand-new sneakers just for her, and that her hair bow would complete the look. Her response stopped me in my tracks: “It’s not how you look; it’s how you FEEL!” She twirled like she was on a catwalk, brushed her hair and teeth, and went about her morning routine as if nothing else mattered. I couldn’t argue with her. She was right. But could I just let her go to school dressed like this? I worried about the future—what would her picture look like in 10 years? Would she get teased? My mind raced, torn between admiration for her boldness and the instinct to protect her.
Then it hit me: she didn’t need saving. Dahlia’s confidence radiated far beyond my own experiences at that age. She knew exactly who she was and what message she was sending to the world. My worries weren’t about her—they were about me, my insecurities, and my desire to shield her from judgment. But Dahlia didn’t need me to control her choices today. She was already teaching me a lesson in courage and self-expression.
I heard the shower door slide open—Shawn was done. I braced for his reaction, but in his calm, unwavering way, he greeted her the same as he always does: “Good morning, my love. You look BEAUTIFUL. How do you want me to do your hair today?” Dahlia’s answer was simple and precise: “Middle part, please, and NO POOFS.” She preferred her hair flat, free to flow naturally, just like she preferred to live—unapologetically herself.
No one commented on the gown, the heels, or the glitter. We just went along with her choices. She grabbed her Wonder Woman shield, slung her gold, sparkly unicorn backpack over her shoulder, and left for school—camera ready, confidence intact, and full of joy.
Weeks later, the highly anticipated class photo arrived. I opened the envelope like an Oscar winner about to hear her name called. And there she was—poised, self-assured, and radiant. Our daughter, Dahlia, had captured her spirit in that single image: red gown, bright smile, and confidence shining as clearly as her favorite color. The photo perfectly reflected who she is: kind, unique, and fearless.
I shared the picture on social media with #confidence, and the responses poured in:
“OMG I can’t stop smiling at her red carpet look!” – Kimberly B.
“Dahlia and I are so alike! I used to throw off my jacket to reveal a glittery skating outfit at school!” – Kadi S.
“This is the best class photo ever!” – Ashley B.
“Never let anyone dull her sparkle!! Shine on, Dahlia!” – Debi R.
“Dahlia’s confidence is beyond her years. She’s kind, assertive, and a role model for all.” – Mrs. H, 3rd Grade Teacher
Dahlia has always stood out. Last year, she skipped traditional Trick-or-Treating to collect pennies for puppies at our local SPCA, raising nearly $5,000. Her efforts earned her an invitation to the Monterey Bay Chapter of the Association of Fundraising Professionals awards luncheon this November, where she will receive the ‘Rising Star’ award in honor of National Philanthropy Day. I have no doubt she’ll attend that event in a red ballgown, just like she chose on picture day, confident and unafraid to be herself.
Dahlia has reminded me that confidence, courage, and joy are more important than fitting in, following rules, or adhering to expectations. She is growing into a young woman who knows her own voice, inspires those around her, and isn’t afraid to shine. And I couldn’t be prouder.
