I’m done trying.
Stay with me here. As dramatic as that sounds, it’s actually a supposed to be read as a statement without any sass. The same way you would read ‘I took the dog out before you came home’ is how that’s supposed to be read.
But granted, you are missing some context. Let me fill you in:
I’m done trying to make my house perfect.
It’s easy for me to get wrapped up in ideas and aspirations. Although I don’t identify as a perfectionist, those closest to me will tell you that despite my messy exterior (and let’s be clear, I’m a mess all over) I struggle with expecting a perfect outcome despite flaws. In my parenting, in my health, and in my home-making.
As you know, we moved from a adorable tiny house full of character to a brand-new, modern apartment. I wanted to embrace simplicity to combine our old home with our new, so I identified with the term ‘minimalist’. I also really love the cozy boho vibe, so I did so Pinterest searching and came up with the perfect look for our new home- minimalistic-bohemian.
Looking back at it, it’s kinda comical. I was hoping for two completely different styles to seamlessly mesh into one, just like the random internet photos of not-real rooms.
So, instead of failing, instead of trying, I ended up not doing anything at all. I threw up a frame or two in the living room, put something in our bedroom and over our dining room table and called it a day. I hesitated with putting something permanent, something that would really make a statement in our house because I wanted it to be perfect. Jeff would occasionally, gently, hint at filling up the space (“Wasn’t there a frame you wanted me to hang up?”), but I always insisted that I needed more time to decide, I needed more time to think.
Needless to say, there were a lot of blank walls in our home. Instead of a fresh, cozy space I had created the exact opposite- a bland canvas of bleh.
The other day we were cleaning out some boxes. I know, we’re nearly six months into this place and we still haven’t completely settled in. To be fair this was a box of a lot of knick-knacks and junk- things that we didn’t quite want to get rid of yet didn’t plan on using. Inside this box was a ton of frames.
All the other times we’ve ‘condensed’, I’ve saved these frames for when we have a house someday. I’ve been telling myself that, as much as I would love to display family photos in our home, it just doesn’t fit that style I want.
But this time was different.
So, screw the preconceived perceptions of what my home should look like. Forget trying to create the perfect atmosphere in a already flawed home. Forget what the Pinterest boards and home queens say makes the perfect style in your home.
I’m doing what makes me happy.
Not what makes my home ‘grown up’. Not what makes it ‘minimalistic’ or even ‘bohemian’. For crying out loud I am hanging pictures on my wall and fairy lights in my bedroom!
My home, my castle. This castle may not fit a perfect style but it will fit my family perfect.
So, I made a wall gallery out of those frames. Sure, I’d like to change them up- I want to re-paint I think everything on that wall and definitely update the photos (may I draw your attention to the frame with the sideways photo?), but for now what matters is that I did something. That I’m not looking at blank space, but rather a happy space.
Also, we bought a tapestry and fairy lights for our room because sometimes I think Jeff + I are having trouble with this growing up thing. But you know what? Screw a stereotypical ‘parent’ room because this castle is my home.
And I’m done trying.