Habseligkeiten

Our last meeting for PRIME happened last night. I'm taking final steps towards housing for the next six months. I dressed like a professional adult this morning with very little effort or stress. I spoke in front of a room of strangers without even a shadow of nerves. I had a conversation with my best friend the other night that revolved around graduate school and the GRE and our separate internship travels.

Today I wore black stud earrings.

Between the ages of 14 and 16 I wore an incredible amount of black. Several pairs of black skinny jeans, a variety of black tee shirts with bright neon patterns, black high top Converse, and a medley of checkered sweatshirts were my school wardrobe. I loved my thick black eye liner and rainbow eye shadows. On Wednesdays, to spite my intensely perky service group leader, I would wear entirely black - and she couldn't even comment (in my mind), because the tee shirt was labeled with our service group's name. I wore layers of jangling necklaces and an array of thick bracelets that came nearly to my elbow. I remember losing one half of a set of small black stud earrings and always hoping that the other would turn up, because they were perfect for me.

I never stopped looking for them. It was a weird, small thing but it became rather important. As I outgrew my heavy makeup and checkered hoodies, those little black earrings continued to elude me. I kept the one, hoping the other would appear. A few weeks ago, I was helping a friend move, and she had a container of earrings she was going to donate. The collection had a few vintage styled pieces that caught my eye, so she gave them to me. Amid the pearls and flowers, I found them.

Plain, black studs.

The excitement was bizarre. My sister and I sat down to divide the collection between us, and those black studs were one of the first that I laid claim on. Today as I got ready for my meeting - dressing for my "grown up Tuesday" as I've started calling it - for once feeling at ease in slacks and flats and a button down, and I looked through my little box of jewelry, they jumped out at me. I wanted those silly black studs. It felt important to wear them today, with my flowered shirt and sensible cardigan.

She's all but gone, 14-year-old Amanda. Her friends are different, her interests have changed, her goals have shifted. But maybe one or two things can remain with 20-year-old Amanda. I always want skinny pants - skinny jeans, skinny corduroys, skinny slacks. I cringe at pink in my wardrobe. I love black nail polish. And I'll wear these black stud earrings.

Because as silly and unnecessarily dark as I was at 14?

I still like her.

And I want her to come with me on these new adventures.

habseligkeiten
n. things an adult may find worthless, but a child regards as treaures