As the new production of Ballet Shoes, the tale of three adopted sisters and their found family, comes to the end of its current run at the National Theatre, Zoe Lambert, an adopted young person, shares her reflections on the show.
Daisy Sequerra (Posy Fossil), Yanexi Enriquez (Petrova Fossil) and Grace Saif (Pauline Fossil) in Ballet Shoes at the National Theatre. Photographer Manuel Harlan
“Some stories settle into your heart quietly, lingering long after the curtain falls. Ballet Shoes at the National Theatre is one such story – a production that twirls gracefully between the unspoken desire to be known and the aching complexities of family, landing with the soft but undeniable weight of something real. It is a play that made me cry, not because it is tragic, but because it understands the bittersweet triumph of carving out your own place in the world.
At its core, Ballet Shoes is about female empowerment wrapped in the gauzy softness of childhood. Pauline, Petrova, and Posy Fossil are not simply three adopted sisters making their way in the world of theatre and performance; they are the architects of their own futures, grasping at opportunity with equal parts determination and desperation. The production handles this theme with nuance, celebrating each sister’s unique aspirations without ever flattening them into mere archetypes. But what sets the play apart is its understanding that passion alone is not enough – dreams require work.
Posy is obsessed with dance, but she is not an instant prodigy; she must train relentlessly, refining her talent through sheer effort. Pauline’s love for acting is not innate, nor is it something she has always longed for – it is something she stumbles upon, a discovery rather than a destiny. Meanwhile, Petrova resists the pressures of those around her, refusing to conform to a life in the performing arts when she would much rather be tinkering with cars and engines. Throughout, the girls must wrestle with the tension between their desires and the unglamorous, exhausting work required to make those desires reality – a refreshing departure from the idea that talent alone guarantees success.
Yet beneath its empowering message lies an equally poignant, if more unevenly explored, narrative about adoption. The Fossil sisters are not bound by blood, but by the fierce, deliberate choice to belong to one another, raised under the care of Sylvia, their adoptive father’s first adoptee – a woman who is not quite their mother but not quite their sister either.
Around them, an unconventional family takes shape, with boarders who enter as tenants and remain as mentors, offering guidance, wisdom, and in some cases, giving them the push they need to chase their dreams. The production captures this beautifully, creating a warm and tangible sense of found family, a household built not on lineage but on love.
And yet, in its embrace of this ideal, Ballet Shoes skirts around some of the deeper complexities of adoption. The play hints at the struggles of identity and belonging but ultimately brushes past them in favour of the broader narrative. Petrova, for instance, is ethnically Russian but has no connection to her heritage – she doesn’t even know the language. When this is acknowledged in the play, it is a quiet but powerful nod to the loss that can accompany adoption, the way roots can feel both present and absent, shaping you in ways you barely understand. Similarly, Posy’s love of dance is presented as something innate, passed down from a mother she never knew, a thread of inheritance that clashes with Sylvia’s well-meaning but limited understanding of the world Posy is stepping into. These moments offer glimpses of something more complicated, more painful, but the play never fully sits with them.
Most notably, the absence of the girls’ adoptive father – Gum, the eccentric explorer who collected them like treasures before disappearing from their lives – is left largely unexplored. He is the reason they are together, but he is also the reason they have had to raise themselves. His absence looms, unspoken, a gap in the narrative and a tangible loss in reality that the play chooses not to confront. These omissions make it clear that Ballet Shoes is first and foremost a story about female empowerment, with family dynamics – particularly the complexities of adoption – serving as a secondary theme. Despite this, the portrayal never feels dismissive or insulting, just underdeveloped, with the play focusing on celebrating its heroines’ ambitions rather than fully unpacking the weight of their origins.
What the play does not brush over, however, is the magic of its staging. Ballet Shoes makes full use of the space, with actors appearing in the air, on a second floor, and even running down the stairs of the theatre itself, blurring the line between stage and audience. There is an energy to the movement that makes the Fossil sisters’ world feel expansive, teeming with possibility, as if the play itself refuses to be confined to a single plane. The special effects are equally distinct – one scene has a character gazing into a ‘mirror’ that is actually another actor, their younger self staring back at them, a hauntingly beautiful illusion of memory and self-reflection. Another moment sees a car seemingly swallowed by an underground tunnel,
a trick of light and staging that feels both theatrical and cinematic.
Ballet Shoes is, above all, a love letter to ambition and chosen family. It captures the resilience of its young heroines, the magic of possibility, the sheer joy of watching girls take up space and demand more from the world. It reminds us that family is not defined by blood, but by love, by care, by the quiet, everyday acts of belief in one another. And for all its omissions, for all the moments where it chooses hope over complexity, it still leaves you with the undeniable truth that girls – no matter where they come from, no matter what they have lost – can build lives that are entirely their own.”
By Zoe Lambert
Zoe is a trustee of Coram IAC, Co-founder of In-Between Lines, and a Paralegal at HCR Legal LLP. Adopted from Cambodia by white British parents, she grew up in Singapore and attended an international school, experiences that inspire her work exploring identity and belonging. Her diverse upbringing has shaped her understanding of complex identities and as a result, Zoe is passionate about contributing valuable insight to the discourse on complex identities, driven by her desire to help people understand themselves and others better.
Coram collaborated with the National Theatre on its production of Ballet Shoes to coincide with Big Adoption Day 2025. Read more here. The National Theatre has announced that Ballet Shoes will return to the Olivier Theatre for the festive season in 2025.