One day it will be over.

The five-hour-long rehearsals, the lengthy meetings about new choreography, the excitement of costumes arriving. The permanent blister marks that reside on your broken feet, which is the price you pay for breaking in your new shoes. One day it will be gone. One day you will have moved on to the next phase of your life, no longer a member of the dance studio that raised you. The late-night auditions and early-morning car rides to warmup classes, the hairspray aroma that surrounds you will subside.

The girls with whom you shared toe pads, snacks, and secrets will move away.

You'll have to return your key to the dance studio, and your picture on the wall recognizing you as a ballerina will be taken down and replaced with a new group of bun heads. One day you'll line up behind stage for the last time, you'll nail your solo and look out into the faceless crowd once more. The curtain will close and it won't be just the symbol of the end of the performance; it will be the end of your life as a performer.

It will happen before you have the chance to master your triple pirouettes. It will happen before you really nail a split leap. It will happen before you had the chance to dance the really great jazz number to your favorite Beyoncé song. It might even happen before your favorite Beyoncé song is created.

It will happen before you're ready.
But it will happen when it's right.

To be in love with dance is the most selfless kind of love. You will give it your heart, your mind and your body. And it will break all of those things a million times, because movement is meant to make you better. Your leaps will get higher, your turns will get longer, and your heart will grow fuller.

My advice, as someone who has turned the lights out in the dressing room for the last time, is to never take a single moment for granted. Because when it's over, you won't be prepared for all that you miss. Being able to find yourself through movement, understanding how passionate you can be about something -- it is important.

That passion will affect everything you do, so let it consume you. Let it bend you and break you and change you. Let it fill you up with success and let it conquer you with determination to be more. Let it be a reminder that you will never reach the end of your potential, but that what you have to give today is always enough.

You can stop dancing; most of us will all have to give it up eventually. But we should never let go of the things dance taught us. Giving up something you are passionate about doesn’t mean you will give the passion; you will just find other things to devote it to.

Sitting on the other side of the curtain has taught me that even if you stop dancing, you'll never lose all that being a dancer teaches you.