Writing in anonymity has become a way to take care of myself.
Every time I type a word, it's like combing my hair, or brushing my teeth. Sometimes it's like taking a hot bath for my soul, which is good since I don't have a bathtub.
I decided to invest in a full size mattress for myself, so I can continue pijama parties with my boyfriend (as he calls them) when the kids spend the weekend away with their dad.
I don't have a room now, but I love my little minimal corner of love and peace. It's "a study area" as the real state agent called it, with three walls and no windows. I put a rug that goes from wall to wall and in top of it, I laid down the mattress, with a very cute bed spread. I decorated it with three pictures and a mirror, a couple of cushions, and beside the bed I put a night table. There is a sense of privacy in it because I set up a screen to separate the area from the hallway.
I've considered myself a minimalist for a while, so when I saw the result of my "room", I felt very proud of myself. My boyfriend said he really loved it and that in general the whole house looked like a model apartment. I couldn't feel prouder (although his house is the epitome of the word "mess", haha, anything remotely organized would look great beside it).
With his comment I felt so accepted. I know that "my corner" would have most grown-ups looking at the ceiling in exasperation, starting with my ex. But my boyfriend is sort of like a kid trapped in a grown-up body, similar to me. The place where he lives actually resembles more a kid's hideaway than a real house, and, in spite of the mess, I love it. It makes me feel like I'm entering some kind of alternate universe every time at least seven dogs come to greet me (two of his, five that belong to his parents, who live next door, plus whatever dog or dogs that are staying overnight in the pet pension that he has).
The ex once said (he had the nerve!) of saying that he wanted to hire an interior designer for our home. That felt like the biggest offense, really. Now that we've being living apart for almost ten months now, I can't believe how on Earth did we managed to live together for so long.
It's beautiful to feel allowed to be yourself, not only that, it's beautiful to be praised for being you.
Every time I type a word, it's like combing my hair, or brushing my teeth. Sometimes it's like taking a hot bath for my soul, which is good since I don't have a bathtub.
I decided to invest in a full size mattress for myself, so I can continue pijama parties with my boyfriend (as he calls them) when the kids spend the weekend away with their dad.
I don't have a room now, but I love my little minimal corner of love and peace. It's "a study area" as the real state agent called it, with three walls and no windows. I put a rug that goes from wall to wall and in top of it, I laid down the mattress, with a very cute bed spread. I decorated it with three pictures and a mirror, a couple of cushions, and beside the bed I put a night table. There is a sense of privacy in it because I set up a screen to separate the area from the hallway.
I've considered myself a minimalist for a while, so when I saw the result of my "room", I felt very proud of myself. My boyfriend said he really loved it and that in general the whole house looked like a model apartment. I couldn't feel prouder (although his house is the epitome of the word "mess", haha, anything remotely organized would look great beside it).
With his comment I felt so accepted. I know that "my corner" would have most grown-ups looking at the ceiling in exasperation, starting with my ex. But my boyfriend is sort of like a kid trapped in a grown-up body, similar to me. The place where he lives actually resembles more a kid's hideaway than a real house, and, in spite of the mess, I love it. It makes me feel like I'm entering some kind of alternate universe every time at least seven dogs come to greet me (two of his, five that belong to his parents, who live next door, plus whatever dog or dogs that are staying overnight in the pet pension that he has).
The ex once said (he had the nerve!) of saying that he wanted to hire an interior designer for our home. That felt like the biggest offense, really. Now that we've being living apart for almost ten months now, I can't believe how on Earth did we managed to live together for so long.
It's beautiful to feel allowed to be yourself, not only that, it's beautiful to be praised for being you.
