Baby, Baby, it's a Wild World

I spent this weekend at Lake Lure to celebrate the wedding of my college roommate.  Since Lake Lure was the home of Dirty Dancing, we shook our stuff to nearly every song on the soundtrack at the reception.  But we also danced to musicians that we loved in college like PJ Harvey, Cat Stevens, and Nine Inch Nails. 

Jumping up and down with the bride made me feel like we were twenty-one again.  I thought back to all the nights we spent at the kitchen table in our tiny apartment drinking cheap Sangria and talking about men and relationships.  I’m glad that life doesn’t allow for crystal balls, but if I could go back and slip myself some wisdom, here are the things I wish I could tell college Brooke:

Revel in the little moments and appreciate their particular magic for what it is.  If you had a great time at a house party holed up in the corner talking to the bearded man in the Fedora, fabulous.  Please do recount every detail to your mom about his love for Faulker if it makes you giddy.  Just don’t agonize over whether he’ll ever call you.  That’s a waste of precious energy you could spend with your tried and true literary loves that patiently pine for you from your book shelf.

Your value isn’t contingent in their approval.  Maybe you toiled over making the perfect dinner for your third date and it went mostly untouched on their plate.  Maybe when you took a guy to watch a meteor shower on top of a mountain they were wishing for a woman that wasn’t you.  Maybe they were weirded out that you left a poem in their car.  It doesn’t matter.  Eventually you’ll find a man that will support you at poetry slams, chow down on your Pinterest baking adventures and be amused by your odd date ideas.  The people you meet along the way are all just a part of the journey.  Hopefully you’ll have some fun while you’re figuring that out and use whatever inevitable heartbreak that occurs in a way that’s productive. 

Don’t be petty about the magic other women possess. In college, there was a blonde photographer in my residence hall that was put together in a way that seemed simultaneously disheveled and immaculate.  Her name was Anna.  The boys in our poetry workshop always seemed to be either drinking in her aura, her lithe figure, or reeling at the power tucked inside her pen.  She’s the only woman I’ve ever called the “c” word.  I was petty because I was intimidated by Anna’s confidence and poise.  Almost a decade later, she published one of my poems on a website she produced.  Anna’s still moving and shaking in ways that would make a younger, less secure me envious—but now I’m finally able to appreciate her for the powerhouse she is. While she is out backpacking in Colorado, I’m executing my own mischief.  Her ability to do great things does not diminish my ability to do the same.  This is a lesson that is difficult for a lot of women, but once we get over it, we can do so many more great things as a team.

Know that other women will sometimes treat you the way you treated Anna.  If you don’t deserve someone’s harsh words or unfair judgement, don’t take it personally.  Be classy.  Keep moving forward. 

Cherish your close female friends.  Ashlee and I have a lot of good memories.  We painted goddesses on a picnic table that we used to eat from in the kitchen.  We drove to Tennessee so that she could break in her new camera with pictures of places she had never seen.  She taught me how to make the perfect home fries, showed me how to contra dance, and introduced me to folk artists like Greg Brown.  As I grow older and my friends are busy with work and other adult obligations, it feels like the opportunities for those female adventures grow smaller.  It makes me understand how important it is to prioritize time for those things—especially now that the women I love the most are geographically farther away.  It shouldn’t take something like a wedding for me to make time to make new memories.

Indulge in things that feed your spirit.  Stay up for more late night conversations. Laugh more. Dance more. Kiss more.  But use more discernment about who you give your inner resources to and how you share them.

Lastly, remember that time is the most valuable gift you can give someone.  Eventually, our time runs out.  Make it worth it.