Today let’s take a look at creating space, for everyone in your home. And, I’m gonna get even more vulnerable, and share my mistakes, so get a towel, cause I’m gonna “spill some tea”.
Often clients tell me “She has the eye, not me. She picks it all, I am just the wallet.” and often with a side of “happy wife happy life”. But what happens when we let one person decide how our entire home will look? Today let’s take a look at creating space, for everyone. And, I’m gonna get even more vulnerable, and share my mistakes, so get a towel, cause I’m gonna “spill some tea”.
Download your free printable journal at awakenyourinterior.com/resources and start listening closely to your body.
For more information about the "Implicit Racial Bias" class by Racial Justice from the Heart visit Dr. Amanda Kemp.
Often clients tell me “She has the eye, not me. She picks it all, I am just the wallet.” and often with a side of “happy wife happy life”. But what happens when we let one person decide how our entire home will look? Welcome back, I am Tasha Cleaveland. Today let’s take a look at creating space, for everyone. And, I’m gonna get even more vulnerable, and share my mistakes, so get a towel, cause I’m gonna “spill some tea”.
I know how hard it can be to live in a home that doesn’t feel right. It's not your fault. You were never taught how to create a home that makes you feel alive. The key is inside you, we just need to unlock it, and this podcast is where you begin. I’m Tasha Cleaveland, welcome to the Listening Closely podcast.
When Keith and I got married, our wedding style was inspired by his heritage. We picked out the decorative elements with his Mom, who is Taiwanese. These pieces ended up being the anchor to our new home together. Vibrant red, white and black. It was beautiful and I felt that it was honoring his heritage. We had many hand-me-down pieces, gorgeous hand carved wood from Taiwan. I appreciate the art form, but it is only now, looking back, that I can see that I was trying so hard to honor him and his family, but I wasn’t leaving space for myself. Only now, can I look back and realize that the space that I had created for us, wasn’t my style recipe at all. It didn’t light me up. What I didn’t realize then, was that just because a space is beautiful and well designed, does not make it the right fit for you. Only you can determine that. And only if you are listening to your body. Eventually our decor changed, as it always does. But as I was trying to find myself at home, somehow I forgot to hold space for him too.
I was taking a class recently on implicit racial bias. One of the exercises from class, was looking around our home and identifying anything that was from another culture, and determining if it was appropriated. The other task, as we walked through our home, was to find subtle cues that showed whiteness as the desired or only option on display, basically, white as the default. The point was to notice any unconscious signals in our environments that reinforced this belief. Ok, I figured this would be an easy task. Im pretty self aware. I had already taken down a big gold mandala last year when I realized it was appropriated. This should be cake! Ahhhh but none of us are fully baked. There is always more growing to do. Yeah, appropriation showed up in rainbow Chakra candles and a rainbow pennant banner with subtle mandalas on them. Dang. I do love rainbows. Ugh. Hindsight is 20/20 and it stung.
But there was more… stylized statues I have collected for years, depicting the members of our family, but primarily my husband and I. I saw the emotion and embraces in these faceless carvings. That is what I loved about them. I remember when I was shopping for them, being irked that all the sculptures only had females with long, straight light brown hair. What, no curls?! Umph. I remember feeling a slight jab at not looking like that thin white girl with straight hair. A feeling I am used to. If you look at marketing and media, its always the thin straight haired white girl. As if this is the standard, the only acceptable thing to aspire to. But because I was so used to it and numb to this feeling, I bought them anyway. Only now, did I notice these only were sold with pale skin. Only now did I notice that this is not what my bi-racial family looks like. Only now did I notice that not one of these statues looks anything like my asian husband with a shaved head. What message was I silently sending to our children all these years? What was I silently saying to him? How often do people of color get these messages and not consciously notice it either? Uggggh. That one hit hard.
And then part two of the assignment came. Look around your home and find ways you can swap out those silent signals with positive associations that are more diverse. How can you bring other cultures into your home, respectfully. It was only then, that I saw I had completely erased my husband’s heritage from our home. I was seeking a home that felt like me, and he was more than happy to let me find that. He didn’t care as long as I was happy. He would be happy with milk crates as a coffee table. But had I left any space at all for him to reflect his joy?
A few years ago I noticed my husband rarely played his guitars. They were always shoved under a bed, in the cases, out of reach. I love when he plays. Im a drooly doe-eyed teenager just mesmerized by it. I love hearing him play music with our kids. It makes me happy on such a deep level that time freezes when I see it. So after a client requested a music wall for her husband, showcasing all his beautiful instruments, I was inspired to do the same for my husband. I love waking up each morning and seeing them on the wall. So as I went through my home looking for signs that I had held space for his joy… I only found this, and his vinyl record display case in the family room, with two KISS paintings we had made him. Ummmmmm…. That was about it. And it crushed me.
I have always been aware of holding space for my kids at home. Often I hear clients making choices for their kids’ rooms… I get it…but I never wanted to push my ideas onto them of who they should be, and their surroundings send those messages. I sacrificed the overall esthetic for their personal journey. As soon as my kids could voice their opinions, they were the ones making those choices. I never wanted it to be my choice, my joy represented in here. I wanted them to follow their passions. And they did. Monster trucks, camouflage, Harry Potter, bunnies, Hello Kitty… it changed often, just like kids do. The trick is to keep the main pieces neutral, like furniture and paint, and only swap out linens and small decor. Big bang, little bank.
Our daughter just turned 17 a few weeks ago. It feels like time has so quickly slipped through our fingers with her. We only have one year left of her being a kid. Thoughts race of “have we taught her enough?” “Does she know how to listen to her inner wisdom?” “Will she have a life she loves?” But I know the answers. I can see her reflected on her walls. Changing, embracing, feeling things out, finding her way. And finally, landing on the spot. Her room is a mix of her own creations, paintings, macrame she wove, plants, string lights, records on the wall and a hammock chair, pale geometric patterns. Its so her. Welcoming. Grounded. Light. Airy. Real. This is the space we often gather. Laughing, playing with makeup, lying on the floor. She is a magnet like that.
Our son, turns 14 tomorrow. His room is gray walls and nothing but solid black and glow lights, with a homage to gaming and his favorite brands. Just like how he is changing inside, his walls too, change at a rapid pace. He is so afraid of standing out, and so afraid of being invisible. I can see it as he is constantly navigating his world, and it’s reflected on his walls.
Our youngest just returned home from spending some quarantine time at my brothers. Upon his return we created a new space for this transition. I asked him how he wanted it to feel, he said “like a hotel”. After further probing we figured out his recipe. Contrasty and sleek. His palette is navy, gray and white. Simple, sophisticated. His guitars are his artwork and he plays them constantly. Each room is so uniquely them… not just posters on the wall, but a reflection of their own journeys. I love that they feel free enough to share that with us.
But what about… a partner? Where is their space when you share a bedroom? Is their joy on display? Have you ever asked? I… didn’t.
My husband’s birthday was last week (yeah, its birthday season around here) and since his love language is “acts of service”, I set out to create those spaces for him. He had been struggling with using the covered patio for a workout space since quarantine. He likes being outside and feeling the sunshine while doing his reps, and I do love the free gun show! But this space had gotten cluttered as the last stop before craigslist and donations. And I don’t know how your outdoor patio is, but I can never keep ours clean. Pollen and dust is a constant battle out there. So the kids and I cleaned up the patio, got waterproof machine covers and containers for all his equipment. We rounded out his supplies, making sure he had everything he needed. We even built a workout bench that he could move into the sun if desired, and refinished an old rusting storage shelf, painting it hammered black, to display his dumbbells, rope and slam ball. When we were done, we had created a large, easy care space, with all his needs in mind. Everyone put in the effort and he watched us all week, wondering what we were doing. It wasn’t just a “tah-dah!” Here is this thing we got you. It was a lot of sweat, planning and care. That is what makes the difference for an “act of service” kinda person.
We also got him an enormous tv…did I mention I don’t really watch tv? When I do, I am totally happy with a small tv, it is not the focal point of my spaces… I like them to disappear when not on! But he loves them… so I mounted the TV on the wall and created a corner in our bedroom just for him. The rest of his guitars were hung and I got a cabinet to hide all his guitar and gaming accessories. I am all about tucking things away into cabinets with storage baskets, that make it easy to keep things clean, and functionally accessible. No one has time to dust all that stuff. If it’s on display, it should light you up, otherwise, put it away and take it out when you need it.
I finished off Keith’s nook by framing his KISS holographic book alongside his Tracy Guns signed photograph, and added a decorative box for all his special guitar picks from concerts and collecting. It is rather amusing to see my corner of the room, across from his. Fluffy pillows, sparkles, plants and fur with my dance pole. And then his KISS corner, as we call it- music, metal and wood. It’s sort of like yin and yang. The differences balance each other out. And gosh… I love how different we are. I love to see the variety of us in our room.
Yesterday, shared what I had discovered. I asked him what he liked and didn’t like in our home, and if he felt represented here. His answer was pretty much what I expected. He hadn’t noticed. He called it the “evolution of us”. He shared that what he loved about his mom’s traditional Taiwanese hand-me-downs, was that it reminded him of her, her comfort and love. It was the good memories they held for him, not the items themselves. As he created his own family, he created new memories. But I know these things still hold power for him and I will be finding ways to incorporate the pieces that still bring him joy, that still remind him of his past, back into our home.
Gratitude to my teachers from Racial Justice from the Heart, for showing me what I wasn’t seeing. Sometimes all it takes is a different perspective. Just like we are never “done baking” as humans, neither are our spaces. Design is never really complete. It’s a living, breathing, experience. Constantly evolving. Just like us. The key, is to know where to keep growing.
My journal reflection:
Gratitude:
The kids and Keith scrubbed the tile floor and grout in our kitchen while I was working, and I came home to a shiny sparkly floor. Wow. To all of that. Wasn’t expecting that miracle!
It’s time to move! Grab your other device to play today’s movement song.
“Splintered” by Aisha Badru Her lyrics speak so purely to the depth of this journey we call life. I hope you feel as captivated as I did when I heard it.
Your Soulwork for today:
Ok, are you willing to be a little uncomfortable too, if it means you can grow? It’s your turn. Look around your home. Have you saved space for everyone? Is there anything you can swap out or improve to honor those living with you, and those who are different than you?
Thank you so much for spending time with me today. I know how hard it is when it seems like there isn’t any to spare. But you showed up today. You put yourself on the list and I celebrate you. As you move through your day, keep your soul work assignment in mind and before starting bedtime routine, while the kids are brushing their teeth, grab your journal and fill in the prompts. Keep going. You can do this.
Know another mom who needs to put themselves on the list too? Please share the love, because we are stronger together.
Until tomorrow. Lots of love.
Tasha