Dear Carlee,
Now you are 30.
The first thing you need to know is that we didn't do it.
Take a look at the list you've been making of all the things you plan on doing by the time you're an adult--say 30 years old--and try to understand right away that almost none of those things have gotten done. Really hardly anything.
I know. It's disappointing. You are upset. And I'm sorry. But I'm only sorry because it's painful for you and you are feeling hurt. I am not sorry because I think I did anything wrong or because I have any regrets. I don't.
Listen, when you started making these plans for us I know that you really thought it out. You had the best intentions and I know how confidant you felt that we could do it. I don't think you were wrong. A lot of things have happened between then and now, and we never could have planned for them, and being a little farther along than you I have to say that a very large part of life is bending to change, finding yourself, and embracing that the journey is a million little steps in a dozen different directions, not bullet points on a to-do list. We've been really busy. We haven't forgotten the goals you set, and we haven't given up, and we haven't decided they don't matter. Not at all. Carlee, we are trying to live life on life's terms. The list you made was made on your terms, and that is a wonderful thing about it--that you were independent and strong enough to know exactly what you wanted and you reaffirmed that for yourself everyday. I love that about you, I honor that about you. You made those plans for us when you were safely inside a construct where the future meant nothing but what you imagined it to be, and that list in that time and place was the perfect thing for you to be creating. But it cannot be our road map. And I think part of why it is so painful for you to hear that we have not followed your road map is that for the last 15 years I have let that be the control in how we view our success. And that is my fault. Carlee, your plans for our success are useful reminders and motivation, but they are not healthy measurements for how well we are doing. Unfortunately, today I am going to have to burn our list.
So here is some disappointment:
We have not starred in any feature films. We have not had our own television show. Sorry, we haven't even had a guest role on a television show. We don't have anything published. No one has made our movies, read our stories, or done our plays. We have not had tours, reading our works for thousands of people whom we have inspired. We don't have a rap career. We aren't rich. We don't own couture shoes or diamonds or a new car. We aren't even a little well to do. We don't vacation. We don't have children. We aren't married to Leonardo DiCaprio or Ryan Gosling or Matthew Lillard. We aren't married at all. We have not won a single award for our performance abilities. That also means we haven't won an Oscar. No accolades for writing, either. We aren't a member of a successful theater group. We aren't on Saturday Night Live. We have never done stand up comedy. No one interviews us about our opinions on things. We do not get VIP seating at shows. We are not friends with Ani DiFranco. We have not bought our parents their retirement homes. We don't own vacation properties or a ranch in Montana. We don't live in LA with "a little place" in New York. We have no tangible way to prove we are helping to change the world in a positive way.
Did I get it all? Have I missed anything? Look over it one more time. Not one of those things has gotten done by a benchmark you so faithfully believed was far enough away that there was ample time. So that's some bad news. On top of which you can add: we still have acne and a jiggly belly, we suck at doing laundry and keeping things tidy, we have debt, we run late, we sleep poorly, we still have a "day job", we live in the city we grew up in, and sometimes we still feel afraid and uncertain.
But there is good news:
We have friends--actually enough people like us that there are friends we go for years without seeing but still love very much. We are decent looking (for a while there in our mid twenties we were not feeling so certain it would work out this well). We have dogs. TWO dogs. Remember how voraciously we anticipated the day we could get a dog? We went to college and it was the one we wanted and we graduated. Our voice is in a museum. We sing in front of other people and sometimes they seem to really like it. We have a career, ok? We HAVE a career. It doesn't look the way you thought it would, but I've worked really hard at it and I'm proud of it so I'd appreciate if you didn't judge our progress on that too harshly. We are a working actor. What you didn't quite know yet was how much "working" and how little glamour was involved. We've kept writing and we are trying to figure that out but it's a lot harder to navigate than "writing then publishing" something, so it's taking some time. We are healthy. Actually, the healthiest we've ever been. We have a healthy relationship. The kind that you were always really hoping for but feared didn't exist? We have that. And he's really good looking and funny, so don't worry. We also love ourself. I know you don't want to hear about how hard that was to work through and you think it's a little embarrassing to share, but I have done a lot of work to get us to a place of actually enjoying who we are and believing we are ok, so just take a moment and appreciate that. We bought a house. We bought it with our non-celebrity handsome-man-partner and we make payments on it every month. We have health insurance. We have a job where we have responsibility and we feel fulfilled. We own just a ton of clothes (more than even you imagined).
And the best news of all:
It gets better. We feel inspired and touched and moved all of the time. We can openly admit that we are sensitive and that is ok--great, even. We don't feel quite so overwhelmed by the pressure to always do the right thing. We are available to other people in a way not even you knew was possible because now we are also available to ourself. We accept rejection as a daily part of what we have chosen to do, and not as a measurement of our worth. We take more chances. We treat ourself kindly; with compassion; with forgiveness. We spend time alone. We help other people and we allow them to help us. We are a lot happier now, doing a million little steps in a dozen directions, than you are at 15 feeling so overwhelmed and anxious by all the things you are supposed to achieve. We are excited to get older, and to see what happens next.
Let me leave you with this: Life is not a movie. I've tried--like, really tried--and it just doesn't go that way. Life is unceremonious change and disappointment and surprise and changing your mind and crying on the bus and trusting yourself and being present and unfiltered joy and weddings and funerals and babies being born and always learning. Life is a journey. You know that Dan Eldon book you are obsessed with? The one that says "the journey is the destination"? That's true. We are doing it right now. We are doing it, Carlee.
So. I know you are determined. And I love you. Stay determined. I know I will.
It's been really wonderful getting to know you.
I'm making a new list. And it's full of things you don't really understand yet. But when you get here, you will.
Love,
Carlee
