Summer of Secret Service

Do you have one of those summers when you were younger that seems almost like a movie? When you look back, you feel this longing and pride, all at once? Mine was the summer I turned 21. I was in DC on a fellowship taking classes at Georgetown and interning in a Congressional office. I was euphoric - I was the only kid west of the Mississippi to get the fellowship, so of course my ego was huge! And I was young, thin and single in a powerhouse town.

It was the summer I dated a Secret Service agent. Almost caused an international incident, according to some. And it's the summer I look back and think of one word - audacious. I was audacious - bold, unafraid, alive.

I also was pretty stupid - not very aware of my own issues, my own insecurities, my own limitations. I had my challenges in my life by then, but I'd come out of them stronger, not beaten down.

But, man, how good that summer was for my ego! I practically glided across the Capitol every day as I headed to work.

The highlight was meeting Chuck. My Secret Service agent. He was 40, handsome, funny. He made me feel so important - protected. When we walked together, he always had his arm around me, almost pulling me in at the same time he was pushing harm away.

So romantic! At the time, it was just so cosmopolitan, almost, to say I was dating him. It was so cool! But, honestly, he taught me a lot about life.

The first lesson was how a simple exchange with a stranger could brighten both of your days. When we walked along the pier, he'd comment about people's boats to them, ask how their day was. I now realize - if in his job, he rarely interacted but only watched, did he try to make up for it on his off hours? We can feed off of those interactions if we let ourselves. Invite more life in.

I also learned how important confidence is - and how visible it is, or isn't, to others. Chuck once commented that I walked so confidently, like I always had a destination and a goal in mind. A place to be.

I did. I had big dreams at the time. And I could feel them pulling. I'm not sure what happened. I think I might have chickened out. Maybe just let the easy life take over. Do what everyone else did - even if it wasn't what I wanted or needed in my core.

And the night Chuck called to cancel our last date - my last night in town - he told me to never stop smiling - because I had a beautiful smile.

I need to remember all of those lessons - to make the most of the little moments, to walk confidently and always have a destination in mind, and most of all, despite the 'life' that will happen, to never stop smiling.

I know I haven't lived up to those lessons. Maybe to varying degrees. But I was thinking of Chuck last week and remembering how much he believed in me. And how much I believed in myself at the time.

I was so audacious - walking up to him in that bar and delivering my famous line "What've you got in that attache case?" Dancing with a prince from the Middle East (yep, that was the beginning of the 'incident'). Acting as if I owned that town. Passionately debating big issues. Stretching my mind in class. Meeting people from around the world.

I miss her some times - that audacious girl. Though she comes out every once in a while still. I think the challenge as we age is how do we hold on to some of that boldness - the courageous, not stupid, part - while being more mature? How can we be wiser without being wimpier? Childlike yet confident without cynical?

I wish Chuck had taught me that lesson. It would be nice to have an easy answer now.