Originally written on August 20, 2022
I changed my room around a lot as a kid and teen. It was the one space that was mine. Well, it was mostly mine. I had to share it with the kids my mom babysat. Aside from that it was mostly mine. I would try putting my bed in all different configurations. Up against the wall under the window, across from the door, headboard under the window, or smack in the middle of the room. There weren’t a lot of options but I tried them all multiple times. I’d push and pull and slide all the heavy furniture around the room on my own. Sweeping and dusting as I went. I never asked for help. It was a solitary project. It still is. I’d huff and puff and sweat and contort myself to arrange the space just to have something feel a little bit different. To feel like I had some version of control.
I’m feeling like I’m on the cusp of another move. Maybe a bigger one. I recently measured my bedroom to try a new configuration. It feels like I’m too big for this space anymore. Too much for this. I bang my elbows on narrow door frames and tip toe across creaky floors to make myself work here. I might be coming to a time where I’ve got to make a bigger move. Bigger than bed frames and dressers to a different wall. A fresh start. This is the longest I’ve been in one place. Might be time to shake it up. I think I could use it. I think we both could. A bit more room to grow. A bit more room to breathe.
