It’s Sunday and I promised y’all an editorial. To be honest, I’ve been mulling it over for a few days and just couldn’t seem to come up with a really great topic. Several of them spun around up there in the ole’ brain but nothing really stuck. Until I started thinking about our big home renovation project and that got me thinking about this house. Which immediately sent me down the rabbit hole of contentment. So here we are. And there’s a backstory.
I sell real estate for a living. Just in case someone was new here and were, like, totally oblivious. To most people a job is just a job. But for me, mine is a passion. I enjoy selling homes to people and just generally love houses of all types. My ideal tour on a vacation is a home tour or going open house hopping and meeting agents from other cities – super nerd real estate agents unite! (Is that a club? If not, should I start it?) No, but seriously. I love solid core doors. I love it when shelving is made from wood and not wires. I am SO here for shiplap even though the experts are saying it’s totally on the way out. (Ugh, what do they know anyway! Shiplap it all, Chip & Joanna, I support you!) I love mixtures of wood. I think the new patterned tile thing is beautiful and fun. And I’m even on board for subway tile even though it’s following in the footsteps of shiplap. I get really, really excited over super-tall basement ceilings. I think the door hardware you choose is crazy important. I get all the heart eyes for bold colored front doors and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the garage door on a home can make or break your exterior.
You get it now, right? Super house nerd alert. Which is why I spent the first 3 years of my married life, in the home my husband built as his “bach pad”, complaining about it and generally just being embarrassed over the entire place. It is, after all, really really small – or in realtor speak, it’s quaint and (not so) charming. It has 1200 sq ft, 2 bedrooms/2 bathrooms, the carpet is berber (seriously?), the woodwork is hickory (ie: not white), the tile is blue/tan (two of my least favorite colors), the walls are all beige, the hardware is shiny 90’s gold and silver and the kitchen is too small and oddly arranged. Don’t even get me started on the driveway layout and the garage.
If I complained about this house once, I complained about it 1000 times. My hubby graciously always nodded along and acknowledged my complaints because they were, after all, completely valid. Plus, I felt like everyone out there in the world would expect two wildly successful real estate agents to have a large, gorgeous home – instead of the 3 small-ish sized homes we do have. I was so, so embarrassed. The only redeeming factor about this place was the 30 Acres it sat on.
But last year sometime, during one of my tirades where I was so bold as to even assert that “No, I wasn’t even grateful to have this place”, Dave made some eye-opening comments to me and they really stuck. He built what he could afford at the time, 20 years ago, and this was it. He tried to think through all the things he’d want/need in the future but that’s almost impossible to do. He saved and worked his little behind off to afford this place and he loves it. Although he acknowledges that it’s too small for our lives now, he loved this house when he built it and it is him. It’s his place. He pored his heart into it and listening to me complain about it all the time was starting to hurt him.
Oomph. It hit me like the ton of bricks my thick brain needed to wake up. How selfish was I? How ungrateful, spoiled, unbelievably entitled? How ugly was my heart over this home he had so lovingly provided for me? How could I be so dis-content?
I’ve spent months changing my perspective and repeatedly telling myself that I love this home – which, believe it or not, has actually changed my outlook. I now enter this place on a chilly, Winter day like today and sigh with contentment and relief that I’m home. I love the fact that my dog can run around on the berber carpet and we don’t have to worry about scratches. I love that we turned the den into a walk-in closet room. I love how much light my office gets all day long. I love that the walls are a blank slate and ready for me to do what I wish with them. I love the jetted tub. I even love the gold hardware because it forced me to learn a new skill – I’m now an expert hardware painter and have some seriously deep pride over the fact that my door handles have been matte black now for a few months and there are zero signs of it wearing off.
Contentment is a tough thing when you have expectations of something else for your life. I have spent this year re-training my brain and heart towards thankfulness when feelings of frustration start to surface. I know that at some point, I’ll get to build my dream home on the back acreage and it’ll be exactly what we want it to be. But for now I’m just enjoying the journey we are on here in this house. I’m enjoying what it means to teach myself to be content and work with what I’ve been given.
On that note, I hope you all had an amazing week! We area heading out soon to a listing interview and I’ve got to find actual pants to wear… apparently sweats aren’t considered appropriate for listing appointments. Too bad. 🙁
I’d love to hear about your week and if there are any areas in your life that need more contentment, feel free to share.
Cheers,
Stacey