My daughter was eight or nine years old. She had been dancing for years — jazz, tap, and ballet — and by every measure she was thriving. She loved it.

He Thought I'd Take His Side. He Was Very Wrong.

Let me set the scene.

My daughter was my first child. She was about two years old and going to a small school-style daycare a few days a week — mostly for socialization, to be around other kids, to start learning the world outside our home.

A friend said something to me recently that stopped me in my tracks.

"You know what you are?" she said. "You're the poster child for Mel Robbins' 'let it go.'"

She's probably right. I just didn't know that's what I was doing at the time.