Doors.

When I was in the bathroom talking to myself about my life, I glanced over and noticed the bathroom door. The paint had been chipped at a corner that hits the door frame when it closes. Then I noticed the door itself and how it has four carved out square panels across it. This door, I was thinking, this door in my apartment, was quite the achievement for me, in my own apartment. I had grown up with doors where the person who made the door really didn’t put much care into the door or the person who would ultimately be looking at the door, day in and day out. The door is representative of who will occupy the space that it closes in. Here I was in front of a quality door, a door created with intention and care in its design. I knew I’ve got far but I was still feeling poor. I looked back in the mirror, at my hair, my skin, my body, my clothes, my jewelry, I looked poor, I thought to myself. I can’t afford to get my hair done, not in the way I would like. My bills outweigh my monthly income at the moment. But this door, wow, what an achievement for me.

This door reminds me of all the other doors I’ve seen before, the ones that were in the homes I’ve lived in and in the homes of others, like the ex-boyfriends over the years, the doors in their bedrooms and how I looked at those doors and connected them with where they were in life. It was at times nice doors that I saw, because they had come from wealth; some had a well-paying job. That was their achievement. And of course, there were those who had fallen off track in life with doors that would tell me exactly that about them. Given how old they were, and how they talked about themselves, I concluded that their door was not going to change in their lifetime, it was never going to be a door created with intention. Even if they had the very same door as I have today, they will still have failed because they weren’t going to see a better version of themselves. But money and doors are only one measure of success.