When my husband and I first had separate bedrooms, mine was almost empty. Tellingly it contained little content, decoration, or sense of occupant. A friend looked in and said it looked like a dorm room. I felt like an idiot.
As time passed, and as I redefined myself, my room also grew in content and personality. Occasionally I would try to hurry the process by on-purpose decorating, but that rarely worked and usually was mostly dismantled. Nice little allegory.
Now my whole house bursts with personality and idiosyncrasies that were not artificially created - they're just the outcome of our lives.
I love that I can see this living tribute to finding myself again and anew. It's a power and a joy.
