Makeover

I decided to give my orange bathroom a makeover this weekend. This bathroom was one of my first projects when we bought our house eight years ago. I would get home from work at night (about 10pm) and lock myself in the bathroom prepping and painting. I did a terrible job, got orange paint everywhere. It's been kind of a novelty of a room, but I am very happy to see it go.

I was inspired by a rug I saw at Crate & Barrel (of all things) and decided to repaint with turquoise and chartreuse. Unfortunately, I didn't buy the rug so I had to go from memory. I let the paint guy at Lowe's talk me into going one shade lighter than the colors I wanted. As a result, I now have a "Tiffany" blue bathroom with an accent wall that is a muddier green than I anticipated. Overall, though, I do like it. Once I get my new furniture in place and pictures hung, I'm sure I'll like it even more.

I opened this post thinking that I was going to write about body image and my own mental makeover, but I'm not sure where to go with it. It's funny, I was feeling pretty good in my skin before our vacation. But after viewing the hundreds of pictures that everyone took, and seeing my giant ol' ass, I'm not feeling all that great anymore. I have always been fairly good about not comparing myself to the unrealistic societal expectations of beauty. Now here I am, 40 years old, and I find myself obsessively comparing myself to everyone around me. And what a losing battle it is. And an extraordinarily stupid waste of energy. But it's like my brain is under someone else's control and I'm fighting to get it back. Thank goodness I have a wonderful husband who tells me I'm beautiful all of the time. It's like having a boxing manager pumping me up for the fight every day.

It all comes down to perspective, doesn't it? And aren't we lucky that we have total control over the most important thing in this universe: our way of looking at it.