A detox, of sorts.

Detox.

It's a buzz word in the fitness community.

I'm on a sugar detox after Halloween. OMG. So many mini-twix. I MUST DETOX!

I'm on a detox. I need to cleanse my toxins.

I'm detoxing all my (insert perceived negative food ingredient here) out for the next (insert certain amount of time here) because (insert semi-famous celebrity who probably knows nothing about actual health and wellness) said I should on Instagram. My detox means I only drink chicken broth and eat spinach for the next (same amount of random days) but omg my skin will glow when it's done.

Sigh.

Detoxing.

It's important to detox. To cleanse. With this, I agree. I'm all for getting rid of junk in our systems and replacing it with good, wholesome, fuel. Our cars need an oil change every few thousand miles, our bodies deserve at least that same amount of love.

When was the last time you detoxed your mind though?

I'm going through a ridiculous upheaval in my business right now. For the last ten years, my dance studio has been housed in the same building. We've been in a second story walk up, occupying an entire floor of an old department store. Old, creaky wooden floors, drafty windows, leaky roof and all...this building was our home.

Our handprints are all over this building, literally and figuratively. I've poured my time, money, heart and soul in to this building. I've painted walls, built walls, repaired the bathroom floor when it was rotting underneath us, Dave even repaired the roof when the rubber roofing was flapping in the wind. We love our home. Even when the outlets fail us, circuit breakers pop every two seconds, the old straight pins from it's days as a tailor shop work there way out of the floor boards and in to our feet, when the cold winter winds whip through the windows that just don't close all the way...when it's so hot in the summer the mirrors are fogging over, when the water in the bathroom sink has never run hot a day in it's life, when the 27 stairs to get up to the door feel like Mt Everest and we have to carry 30 boxes of costumes up...we love our home.

When you can hear the laughter from the other dance rooms while you're teaching in the big room...
When I see my students handprints in paint on the ceiling and walls from the last time we painted and I let them "leave their mark..."
When my mom's babies hang their coats on the hooks made by a friend of the studio...
When I sit on the benches lovingly made, so crookedly and haphazardly, by a dance mom who has since died of cancer...
When the middle schoolers dare each other to open the fridge that smells like garbage because it's broken and laugh until their stomachs hurt and I get to hear them from my office...
When I hear little feet pounding up the stairs, ready for another hour of cartwheels and giggles...
When I get to change the decorations on the tree at the top of the stairs...
When I have to chase down the UPS guy because there's no where for him to leave our packages...
When I get to have a chat with a student who's mom can't find a parking spot outside on Wednesday nights and has to circle the block for 15 minutes and I learn about favorite colors, tv shows and tiny secrets...

When I remember the many hours we spent sharing stories during candle share, crying and laughing with each other while we realized we really are the same...
When we got to bring home our first "big trophy"...
When Jet Set was finished...
When Kaari landed her first aerial...
When Rory came to the studio for the first time as a squishy little baby...
When Allison walked for hours, holding Trace, so he wouldn't cry...
When Elizabeth went in to labor instead of coming to her baby shower...
When Allie surprised us all with her baby news...
When Jordan and Brittany had World War III and we hid in the bathroom, even as adults...
When Sam put her feet through the wall...
When Sarri came back after her Grandpa passed away and we all cried with her...
When...
When...
When...

How do you say goodbye to a place?
To a place that changed your life? To a place that you brought babies home to, just as much as you brought them home to your own house? To a place where your memories are, where you children made so many of their first memories, where you watched your students grow and change and flourish? How do you just pack your things up, put the ribbons and tambourines in boxes, move it to a new home and leave the music behind?

How?

How am I supposed to let go of half of my heart like that?

When we moved to this studio, after one year at the tiny studio, I wasn't married. I wasn't even engaged.

I ran up these stairs to show Crystal my engagement ring.
I had one of my bridal showers in the front dance room.
I threw up discreetly for four weeks in the bathroom at the studio when no one but my family knew I was pregnant.
I...
I...
I...

I think what makes moving the hardest is that I didn't get a choice. I didn't get to say it's time to move on. I didn't get to get excited and parade my joy around. I had to put things in boxes, pack up my memories and move on because I had no choice.

I was forced to detox from my dance home. And it hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my heart hurts. I KNOW that our new home is a good thing. It's a beautiful location, it's a wonderful spot for us to be and it will be a great match for us. I know full well that I will make hundreds and thousands of more memories in the new studio. I know that, I accept it, I look forward to it. I'm very excited for the new home. I love the idea of being on the first floor (no more steps!!), TWO bathrooms (both with hot water!), gorgeous pin free floors, warm windows and heaters, a cute round lobby...so many wonderful aspects to the new building.

I know that full well. I'm a mature, rational adult. I do my personal development every day.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to detox sometimes. And today, it hurts. <3 p="">