I had an enlightening experience the other day on one of my junking trips. I had purchased a shelf for redo from a lady locally and I had to go to her house to pick it up. The house was a pretty large brick home, nice, but not really an eye catcher. She met me at the door and led me inside and through the house to her office.
Three steps in to this house and I was struck speechless, which for anyone who knows me, that is saying a lot. It was like stepping into a magazine. This home was decorated so beautifully that it literally took my breath away. There was so much beauty to take in that I was overwhelmed. The style was exactly my style, shabby distressed primitive pieces, huge shabby chandeliers, beautiful rugs in taupe and grainsack colors, all the furniture was soft creams and beiges, architectural eye candy on the walls. Every item a perfect example of this style, everything perfectly matching , everything spotless, everything just …. perfect.
Room after room, not an item out of place, not a crumb, not a child’s toy, not a single personal item that didn’t quite match but had sentimental value. As I smiled and told her how beautiful it was I realized I absolutely hated it. I felt so out of place standing in this house, like I was not clean enough, not perfect enough to be in this house. I didn’t match.
As I loaded my shelf and drove away I couldn’t believe how strongly this house had affected me , it was easily the most beautifully decorated house I have ever been in. If I had seen it in a magazine I would have said “this is the closet thing to my dream home I have ever seen”.
But I would have been wrong, my dream house has the same décor style, it has pieces I will never be able to afford, it has wood floor and lots of natural light, but it also has a a lot of the same elements the home I live in now has. It has a child’s art work on the refrigerator, it has a little girl’s hand and foot print and her age “1yrs” pressed into the drywall mud while it was still wet, right beside the dining table .
It has a sippy cup on the coffee table and crayons under the couch. There are items on all the shelves and a lot of them don’t match the décor, they are gifts from people that love me. They are reminders that this home raises a child, houses a marriage that has lasted over twenty five years, and entertains friends and family on a regular basis. And those people come into my not so perfect, not quite “my dream home” house and sit down and tell me how they feel at home here the minute they walk in.
“I love your house! ”
“Your house is so cozy”
“I need to sit here awhile and drink a cup of coffee with you and relax and hide from the world.”
These are the things I hear from new friends and old, all the time. They never say your house is beautiful, it looks like a magazine, it is perfect!
And you know what? Now I realize that I am very happy about that.