(sewing room) updates

This year has been so kind to me, and I know it will only get better from here.

I’ve been using my blog as a journal, writing a little about what it means to be raised by a narcissist and sharing my journey so far, hoping that something good will come from it.

Hitting rock bottom was hard, but everything that followed has been inspiring. It’s like starting anew—you learn to breathe, you learn to walk, and once you’ve mastered that, you can leave behind everything that caused you so much harm and move forward.

I have so much compassion for the Anca of last year. I remember everything so vividly—every emotion, every thought—and I get shivers because she fought so hard so I could reach this place where I feel comfortable with my decisions and plans.

Today, I am grateful and happy. Somehow, I’ve found the peace I so desperately needed, and I am looking forward to living my happy ending.

I started the year feeling hopeful and inspired, and most of all, I needed to make this house feel like a home.

When we moved here two years ago, I quickly said that it felt like home, but that wasn’t entirely true because I didn’t want to accept that I no longer had the same safe space.

Day by day, we made small changes to have that feeling again, but dealing with grief and healing simultaneously can mix your emotions in ways that take a long time to untangle.

In January, I made a list of most of the things I wanted to change to reach my final goal, and when spring arrived, I jumped into some of the bigger projects, not realizing what a big impact they would have.

Even though we are renting, it’s been made clear to us that we are allowed to tackle projects like painting or changing fixed furniture as long as we send an email and get approval. It’s mandatory for someone to come and check the final product, and I understand why. Not everyone does the necessary research to learn the proper steps for approaching a project.

It took me a month to paint the wooden ceilings on our second floor because they needed special treatment. Being so old, they required sanding first, then two coats of primer, and finally two coats of special paint. This process was time-consuming since we had to wait at least 24 hours between coats due to the humid and cold weather.

I had the most fun painting my sewing room because it’s such a small room with so much light, thanks to the large windows. On the other hand, the biggest impact the paint made was in our bedroom. It’s a big room with a small window, perfect for sleeping but not so enjoyable to spend time in during the day.

Healing is hard because we have to play two roles. One part of us is suffering and dealing with all the trauma, while the other part needs to be strong, offering help and support. But we can’t be both at the same time, and this struggle causes us to have both good days and bad days. We just need to have patience—sometimes the light within us will conquer the darkness, and the more we feed that light, the longer it will stay.