Doors and Windows (Part II)

PART TWO OF THE TWENTY-SOMETHING SERIES

Life after eighteen is different for everyone. No longer under the legal or mental ties of “parents,” - you start the lifelong process of making your own space in this world. For many, that process looks like a dozen boxes, built between June and August, preparing for a move-in day somewhere at university. Even those that don’t head to college begin laying the groundwork for creating their own space. By the time you have entered your twenties, you have likely experienced the tiresome labor of rearranging your life by various dimensions, always searching for great lighting or amenities. Doors and windows can catalog life in your twenties.

When I turned twenty - I signed the lease on my first apartment in West Chester, PA. 344 W. Gay Street. A square, yellow building on the backend of a four or five-story tall business building in the downtown area. It was a building with an entryway where you immediately had to climb stairs. The unit had three bedrooms and an open kitchen-dining-living room area. It had these skylights and wooden floors. The laundry room was the basement of the entire unit, and you had to enter from the outside. It was a great place to be your first apartment.

At 23, I moved across the country to my second apartment, which I had never seen. It was a studio apartment in Seattle, WA, on the perimeter of Amazon’s new campus. This apartment had a gated garden before you entered the building. Once inside, you could take a staircase that went left and right to the second floor. Our unit was at the end of the hall, next to the fire escape that someone would occasionally prop open to smoke off of. You could climb the escape to the roof, where you could see the Space Needle and some of the shorter buildings that fill Seattle’s skyline. In the distance, you can see Queen Anne - a family neighborhood at the top of a hill. I shared this studio with Vito, my long-time roommate. We filled the apartment with two Ikea beds, a 32-inch TV, and… not much else. The apartment had great lighting and lacked a microwave, but we made some delicious, mostly warm, leftovers.

At 24, I moved back to Pennsylvania and soon entered the newest apartment I’ve ever lived in - Mount Joy. This apartment was on the third story of a building part of an apartment community. The community had a gym, a pilates studio, and a pool and was marked by its clock tower. The unit was new, with all new appliances. It was a two-bedroom with a massive living room. It had a small balcony too, and depending on the season, you could sit outside and smell the local chocolate factory or the local cows. The unit featured these massive windows, which paired nicely with the quietness of the apartment. The stillness of Mount Joy was a blessing during the week, but on the weekend, it felt like something to run away from. In your twenties, when you aren’t moving, you feel like you are falling behind.

So, a year later, I moved into a rented house in Lancaster City. The apartment on East Frederick Street had a purple door and three floors. It also featured a kitchen skylight, and the ceiling was adorned with copper plating. It is also the oldest apartment that I have rented. With three floors, the apartment had plenty of windows; on the second floor, the light was the softest. One of the quirks of the unit was the small foyer. Behind the purple door was a tiny foyer leading to a set of double doors. These doors were adored with long glass panels, adding coziness to the apartment. There is a level of irony in wanting to live in a city so spending time away from home is easier. And at 25, I had decided the next place I wanted to live was Athens, GA.

I was 25 when I moved into The Lodge of Athens. The Lodge is built like a Disney resort. It was designed to resemble life in a log cabin. Even the pool had a small waterfall. The nondescript door led into a short hallway of a two-bedroom unit. My room was on the left, featuring a large single window covering a third of the wall. Somehow, this unit was exactly what I expected for a graduate student experience. It came furnished with just enough character to be comfortable enough to fall asleep at night but still always felt like you were in a library. This apartment was always dim because there was little light beyond the bedroom window.

So at 26, I moved again and reunited with my lifelong roommate. We entered an apartment outside of Downtown Athens. Our apartment had a private entrance. And above the door? A skylight. Inside, there were three windows in total. One in the living room and one in each bedroom. With the dark wood of the kitchen and living room, this apartment was constantly dark. However, the unit had high ceilings, making the apartment airy. Every apartment teaches something to look for when you’re moving. On Thomas Street, I learned to check the windows to ensure they open. The year I turned 27, I graduated from graduate school and prepared to move home. During the transition, my grandmother passed away.

At 27, I moved into my grandmother’s house in Pennsylvania. I lived in a plus-sized rancher on the main street in my hometown. The real draw of the front of the house was the massive, storefront-like window. The house was always filled with light. It was this light that gave the house a settling peace, which had a healing effect. After all, the contrast between a house full of life and one that is empty is a contrast that welcomes some reflection. Through those massive windows, you could see so much activity. My grandmother would sit in a recliner by the window, where she could see an intersection. This particular intersection was the main route for my family to travel back and forth from home. In essence, she always knew when we were on the move. She must have loved the spectacle of my family as we each commuted to different destinations. Sitting in that same spot, I grew a profound appreciation for people-watching from the comfort of a home. These windows were an invitation to experience a stage of life that I’m not at yet; a stage of life where the views don’t change all that much.

Between the ages of 27 and 29, I moved two more times. I moved back to Athens, Georgia. To experience over nine different residences in a decade is… tiring. In these moves, I have learned to pack a U-Haul extremely well. I’ve acquired a helpful checklist for apartment-hunting (keeping a keen eye on windows). I have committed and recommitted to a grocery store. (Grocery stores are an important part of where you live!) Each of these places is foundational to my experience in any given place - to each year I’ve lived. The bathroom tiles, the creaky floors, or the amalgamation of wall colors all serve as the backdrop for the people, the food, and the moments, that have filled my twenties.

So - what do the doors and windows of your twenties look like?