DIFFERENCES
- theoccasionalwriter
- Jan 20, 2021
- 3 min read

I feel like all I can talk about lately is the fact that I just moved into a new house. If you know me personally and you have spoken to me recently, I would like to offer a preemptive apology for the words that follow. I am going to be talking about my new house.
I just moved into a new house. This was a good move on so many levels. Unbeknownst to us it was time to move, the location is good and the actual space is a dream. Moving during COVID-19 did add a layer of stress, but it also added mindfulness to the space in which my roommate and I were moving in to. Being home exponentially more than usual, for an extended period of time, makes the fluidity and comfort of home crucial.
Since I work from home my roommate graciously offered me the much larger attic bedroom. This is the first time in over a decade that I would be moving into a space that felt like a blank canvas for me to really express myself. The thought was a little daunting, I found myself responsible for my sense of style. Do I have a sense of style? Am I ready for a different style? As a chronic over thinker, this quickly became a crisis of personal identity.
An important order of business was to get my bedding right (Hello, you spend a third of your life there). I combed the internet for several days to figure out what I was looking for and finally I decided: Velvet. Not just velvet, but a statement color. No more white, cream, grey or blush for me. It was time for this girl to be bold! In came to my house two choices:


I made up my bed both ways and one thing became very clear. I need a white comforter.
As I went about repackaging the other two comforters and returning them so that I could purchase the white comforter that all along I had been drawn to, I felt disappointed in myself. I greatly admire people who, like my roommate, can really lean into such a rich style. But I was making my bed with my new white comforter and my favorite grey and white sheets I started to feel much more at peace, and it led to an epiphany…
I am proud of myself for trying something different and for not rigidly sticking to it just because I thought it looked cool on someone else. It made me appreciate my boldly colorful friends. It made me feel grateful that I can pass by my roommate’s bedroom and catch glimpses of citrine and deep emerald. I love all the different characters in my life. It is nice to have things in common, but it enriches my life so much when there are differences. But their differences do not equate to a deficiency in myself. I know this seems like such a small thing, but it exemplifies the chasm that can exist between different cultures, races, friends.
On a lighter note, I would love to know: What is on your bedspread?
You will have to excuse me now, I have some research to do on bacteria for a future article. You can find me in one of my THREE different reading spots in my new bedroom.
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