When I was 25 I created a job posting for “Summer Fling.” It was a seasonal position with benefits, pay started at a penny per day DOE. Here is the position summary:
The Mission of Megatron (Megatron was my nickname, many still call me Tron, a nickname to that nickname) is to have a fun, memorable summer, by packing as many unique experiences as possible into two months. She seeks to spend some of her days running around, being a goofball with anyone willing to apply for this position.
I posted the position on the fridge at a party my roommate and I threw and counted on friends to spread the word. The one and only candidate who
applied for the job picked up on the playful nature of the game and mailed me a headshot along with their resume, which included relevant experience and fun facts. Two of my friends and I interviewed the candidate, which included asking them questions like “Do you like roller coasters? Can you please explain the physics of a rollercoaster to us?,” “What is your height? At what age did you stop growing?,” “Please open up your desk and chug the beer as fast as you can. You will be timed,” “What are your feelings about squirrels?” After listening to their solid answers we decided to hire them and they officially became my Summer Fling of 2005.
The idea most likely came during casual conversation. I imagine my 20’s self telling a friend, “A summer fling would be nice, fun and no commitment, I could post an ad, haha.” And then I actually made it happen.
I was recklessly creative and curious in my 20’s. As evidenced by my love for Jim Henson and all his creatures, I made my 27th birthday party an ode to him and billed it Dance Magic Dance on homemade invitations. I dressed up as Red Fraggle and some friends came in character as Ernie and the Goblin King. Everybody else came ready to majorly cut a rug at one of my favorite magical spaces in the world—Buntport Theater. When my
roommate of four years and I prepared to go our separate homestead ways, we threw an All Things Extinct party. One friend created a diorama of dinosaurs on their shoulder and head (this makes it sound like they only had one shoulder–they had two–the diorama only occupied one–aren’t you relieved I cleared that up? I am). After I watched a roller derby bout at Bladium I pulled one of the skaters aside and asked what it took to become a skater—and then I joined the league and skated for two seasons. When I recall all I did in my 20’s I am amazed. It would be easy to believe those were the golden days and now my 30+ life is on the decent. Easy, yet inaccurate.
I think it’s hard sometimes, to let go of a phase of our life. It can feel like we’re letting go of part of ourself, and oh how the ego can’t stand that! I like to think of it as letting go of the physical, and our strengths remain. I can let go of my 20’s body and still have my health. I can let go of my 20’s social life and still have fulfilling friendships. I can let go of bringing many different ideas to fruition and still be curious about life. I can let go of single ladies life and still hang out with Beyoncé on the weekend have fun with the single and partnered up ladies in my life.
Sometimes the phases we let go of aren’t the ones we’re most proud of, and we’re happy (or scared) to put in the work to transform ourselves. Other times the phases we let go of are filled with fun memories, and we appreciate those times for what they offered to us and we try not to get stuck on recreating them. Instead, we channel our strengths into the now, the environment we find ourselves in, and we live fully—free of ties to the past.