I used to scroll through perfectly staged photos of immaculate homes and feel an intense longing. I yearned for that clean, minimalist aesthetic—spaces devoid of clutter and pointless decor. Those images seemed to radiate a calmness I desperately sought but couldn’t achieve.
For a time, I lived in one of those pristine environments—an elegant, modern house adorned in shades of gray and white, with expansive windows letting in light and space that echoed. I tried to conform to the persona that such a home implied. I was obsessive about having nothing on the counters, regardless of how often items were used; everything had to be neatly stored away. My towels and linens were all white, aiming for that hotel-like vibe. I wanted my home to feel as if no one resided there.
In hindsight, it’s clear that my aspiration to create a home that looked untouched was a reflection of an inner turmoil that I was avoiding. On some level, I understood that I wasn’t fully engaging with my own life.
Now, when I see those flawless interior shots, I feel a wave of discomfort, almost nausea. A “finished” space displayed on a home renovation show no longer captivates me; instead, I see a curated façade of perfection. I notice the sterile arrangements of shelves, where every item sits at precise angles, and nightstands too small for essentials. Books are arranged by color, often devoid of any real connection to the occupant. I find myself irritated by the generic titles, knowing they’ll likely never be read. It’s all an illusion.
When I come across an impeccably staged kitchen, I can’t help but wonder about the missing coffee maker or where the mail goes. That decorative bowl of lemons will spoil if not used, but once they’re gone, it becomes an empty bowl. The couch, pristine white, would terrify me to sit on, much less allow my kids or dog. Everything feels so cold and unwelcoming; it’s all a facade.
I no longer desire that illusion of perfection. I want authenticity. I crave cozy, lived-in spaces—worn blankets tossed over the couch, mismatched pillows that invite play. I appreciate secondhand bath towels from thrift stores. I want plants that require specific care, challenging me to keep them alive. I prefer my books organized by author, not color, because the purpose of owning them is to read. I want vibrant accent walls and solid wood furniture bearing the scars of love from previous owners. I seek original art that doesn’t have to match everything else.
This shift in my design philosophy reflects the changes in my life. How we choose to decorate our homes is a deeper expression of who we are. For years, while grappling with my identity, I sought order in my surroundings, arranging everything in perfect alignment. I thought that by controlling my environment, I could find some peace amidst the chaos within.
I used to binge-watch home improvement shows for inspiration on how to create a pristine environment. Now, I’m drawn to programs that center around real families and their lives. But can a show truly capture what it means to live authentically? Last year, a friend introduced me to a Facebook group where decorators and homeowners share their journeys toward a “Boho” aesthetic—celebrating individuality and nonconformity. Here, each room is a work in progress, reflecting personal stories and evolving tastes.
So, keep your house perfection. I once yearned for it to mask my inner turmoil. However, coming to terms with my identity has been a messy yet liberating journey. I now embrace the chaos, seeking a home that reflects the beautifully imperfect reality of life. I still appreciate tidiness, but I prioritize a space filled with warmth, color, and authenticity over sterile perfection.
For more insights into creating a home that reflects your genuine self, check out this post on home insemination.
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Summary:
The author reflects on their past desire for a perfectly curated home that mirrored an idealized lifestyle, realizing that this aesthetic was a facade masking internal chaos. Over time, they have embraced a more authentic, lived-in approach to home decor, prioritizing warmth, individuality, and personal expression over pristine perfection. This evolution parallels their journey of self-acceptance and authenticity.