Kate’s Five Things #20
Married 10 years and bored.
Catching Up
Hi! How was your week? Routine reigns supreme around here. The weekend consisted of rearranging furniture. Cooking. Cleaning out gutters. Playing bingo with the kids. It was boring. I felt happy.
I’ve never been comfortable with boredom. I remember a therapist telling me—after the end of my first marriage—that searching for a partner who would thrill me in the way I wanted to be thrilled wasn’t going to equate to a solid marriage. Supposedly, it was a sign I wanted to be “saved” from myself. She told me there was a lot of merit in being boring and predictable. I thought I’d rather be single.
In my twenties, I spent a lot of energy chasing two things that contradict one another: the meaning in life and the means to escape it. My mindset around love, work, and life looked like this at the time:
Intensity = It’s *real* love (evidence I am lovable).
Pain = It’s *good* work (evidence I am good).
Busy = My life is *meaningful* (evidence I am worthy).
Hindsight tells me it is easier to grasp what we don’t understand when we think in absolutes. Yet, if we need our world to be binary to understand it, we miss the point entirely.
I’ve let go of many of those beliefs, but I’m not “different” now. There is no “before” or “after” photo that reflects the process of changing your mind. We just are. We take things we learn in adulthood and weave them into the fabric of our identity. We become comfortable with what’s inside. We sink into ourselves like the comfort of a warm blanket. Boring becomes beautiful.
I did marry someone who matched my intensity and zest for life. Throwing out best-laid plans in favor of novelty and excitement is something we both do. And yes, it has caused problems. We just celebrated ten years together. And when I look back at what’s worked well for us, I realize the intensity of our courtship isn’t what binds us together. It’s what sits beneath the storybook version of our romance that blossomed over time: an unwavering respect for each other's humanness. It is a rope that keeps us returning home when we want an escape.
I’d call that a love story.
Last Week’s House Call
In last week’s newsletter, I shared an extensive list of the programs, resources, and tools I use for my interior endeavors. Here’s an excerpt:
“I’ve been thinking a lot about how I can help folks get from the point of collecting inspiration to actually incorporating these observations into our real lives. It’s not only about big projects (although my advice works for those, too) but taking the first steps toward making the changes you’ve wanted to implement in your own home.
How can we take all the goodness we discover and make it our own? How can we make more room for playing and creating and spend less time scrolling and avoiding?
I’ve touched on several of the tools below in various pieces of content over the years, but I think there’s a lot of value in having them all saved in one place. This guide provides a better understanding of how various tools can work together as you move through the design process. My hope is that this is a helpful resource for any beginner decorator who wants to hone their skills independently at home.”
If you like topics like this one, please consider upgrading to a House Call paid membership! Sometimes I share bonus content like a peek at my interior design projects. It’s how I’m able to do more of this (writing and creating) and less sponsored content. Thank you to everyone who has become a paid supporter of my work.
How I'm feeling this week…
Clear-headed. I didn’t expect much to change after my birthday, considering I was already doing mental gymnastics around “what the future looks like.” Joe and I had a frank conversation over dinner in France that snapped a lot into perspective. The sudden clarity felt similar to when I wore glasses for the first time. I didn’t know you could see all the leaves on the trees. It was beautiful. I’ll share more when I’m ready.
What's in my cart…
I want this coat badly. But do I need it? No. So, someone buy it and wear it for me!
Also, I have gifting on my brain! Did you read the behemoth of a gift guide from The Strategist? They always do excellent guides, and this year is no exception. My condensed gifting guide will be going live next week.
What I'm consuming…
Have you listened to the podcast Song Exploder? Each episode dives into the story behind how a song was made. I get chills listening to songwriters speak about what was going on in their lives then, how they collaborated, and where inspiration struck. Highly recommend. Thank you, @isees, for sharing the episode on “Closing Time” with Semisonic via my DMs.
What resonated with me…
There are plenty of reasons to love Emily Nunn’s newsletter, The Department of Salad: Official Bulletin, but my real issue is how she knows exactly what I need to hear when I need it. She cuts right. to. it. with humor and delicious prose. Emily, if you are reading—I’m one of your biggest fans. Thanks for reminding me to be grateful for my awful salads.
A question I've been asking myself lately…
Says who? I like to challenge my inner dialogue with this question when I start brooding. It usually reveals I’m just scared. And aren’t we all? Then I get on with it.
Space of the Week
We’re going to spotlight a studio this week because I couldn’t select one home from their website that didn’t hit the following:
Evidence of real people living there (aka—things) makes their work relatable.
They’re pros at “the mix” in an “it just works” way. Everything is cool, relaxed, and stimulating at the same time.
The projects aren’t all mansions and new builds. There is a lot of inspiration for those of us working with tighter spaces with unique layout challenges.
Here are some highlights from Reath Studio. You’ll want to flip through their entire portfolio.
Until next week,
