today's #wirehousedaily Dustin & Whitney share an improvised piano tune, and thoughts on growing older. Dig it.
thirty years by whitney lamora currier
I still feel slightly awkward settling into an adulthood life- like the first time you try on high heels and you teeter and totter yet feel powerful, seeing the world an inch or two differently. I stare into the mirror at the slight lines, the hairs- the greying strands sticking straight up- and wonder when I’ll look at myself, nod, and say: adult.
In all traditional terms I’m there. I’m married, have a salaried job, have lived on my own for 12 years, pay credit card bills, a car payment, listen to NPR, and unironically purchased polenta tonight for a dinner dish. I work out, I worry about presidential elections, I moved away from home and never went back. I’m there.
Conversations with friends have shifted from boyfriends to husbands, to children to travel. From beer pong to champagne, from dive bars to cocktail bars. We share advice and clothing, open up and are honest about life in a way we haven’t been before. We watch each other win and lose- and know how to actually and properly handle both.
I write thank you cards, keep a planner filled with to-dos, birthdays and anniversaries. I’m established enough to receive hoards of junk mail. I unsubscribe from electronic junk mail. I report accounts on Instagram. I’m in bed before 11, I iron my clothes when they’re wrinkled and I take my animals regularly to the vet. I am adult, I am here.
My bones still want to cling to that in-between time when you don’t have the ropes of advancement cutting off circulation. When you started a party at ten instead of ending it. When you drank one of everything and woke up the next morning just kind of tired and ready for a 2500 calorie breakfast at the local greasy spoon. When your closests weren’t losing family, weren’t experiencing the heavy details of the science of life and realizing how hard it is to love and apologize and fight and make up and say everyday: I see you and I love you.
But I wouldn’t go back- I’m fine with this journey forward. I feel deeper than I’ve ever felt. I think wider than I’ve ever thought. I keep my eyes and ears open for opportunity more than ever before. I physically feel stronger, leaner, more confident. I’ve spent thirty years with Whitney and I think I’ve figured her out. For now.