These past couple of weeks have been transformational. My safe haven and my hideaway (my bedroom) got a whole new makeover. The walls, which used to be a soft shade of pink from when I first moved here 18 years ago, are now a lovely shade of lavender. I also got a new carpet, which I never want to stop walking on. It feels like a new chapter.
It may sound silly but these four walls witnessed everything I’ve been through for the past eighteen years: growing up, falling in love with music, falling in love, school, stupid crushes, friends, ex-friends, phone conversations, heartbreak, nights where I cried myself to sleep, mornings where I wouldn’t get out of bed, things I never should have done, regrets, choices, writing, dreams, life changing events, loss, prayers. Everything. It was so therapeutic to cover those old walls up with new paint and start fresh. I haven’t been the same since the summer of 2010. It’s about time my room, the one place I spend most of my time (and write) got a new beginning as well.
It was a decision to change my room. It is a decision to change ourselves.