Every one has a story. This is mine.
Interior design is deeply personal. So much goes into the choices we make and why we make them — it's not just about the need for enhanced functionality in the kitchen or a primary bedroom worthy of gracing the pages of House Beautiful. Every home tells a story: the stories of the people who live there. Their stories are one-of-a-kind, beautiful, complicated, messy, and completely human. That's why I love what I do.
How I got here is a little unexpected. Expect the unexpected, right? As an interior designer committed to learning my clients' stories so I can design for how they actually live, I thought it was time to share how I got here, and why that matters.
Just after college, I was the victim of a crime. A man entered my home, attacked me, and stole from me. As I'm sure you can understand, this affected me deeply. I was violated in the one place that I felt safe: my home. And the worst part was that the police didn't believe me — until he struck again, this time, a few doors down from my former residence. He eluded the police for almost a year, and during that time, I never felt safe. I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went. I couldn't sleep or eat. I disconnected from my friends and family. I became a hermit in my own home, scared that he would come back for me. Eventually, he was caught with my drivers license in his car. I moved on with my life. I embarked on a career in Fort Worth, believing that the world was my oyster.
But that wasn't the end of it. Yes, he was behind bars (and still is), but I had developed PTSD, and many years later, amidst a relocation to to The Woodlands, it reared its ugly head. I turned to design as a creative outlet, renovating our new home. It made me feel good — I found comfort and strength in creating a place where my family would feel safe. Interior design helped me heal. When my home was complete, I had my lightbulb moment.
Since embarking on a second life career in interior design, I've had the honor of designing for those recovering from serious illness, those with special needs children, for the aging, the military families, the frequent movers, the recently divorced, the blended families, the grieving, and so many more. Each client placed their trust in me, sharing their deeply personal stories so I could design their home for their needs. This is not to say that I haven't done “straightforward” design without a focus on unique circumstances — I do that, too. But I'm unafraid to go deep. Go there. I pride myself on empathy and making a place work for my clients — not the other way around.
My individual journey and experience with clients have revealed much about the link between personal history and interior design. Even a brief consideration of emotional needs can be key to creating a space we grow to love even more with time, not less; to a design with staying power because it is not only beautiful, but also personal and interesting. Now more than ever our homes are places where we spend a great deal of time and feel safe. It feels like the right time to explore this in 2022 with our podcast, The Psychological Blueprint.
Through sharing my story, it's not my intent to gain your sympathy. What I hope to do is make you believe that imperfect is beautiful. It inherently tells our stories, with all the good and bad things that make us who we are. We are beautiful with all our imperfections, and our homes should reflect that.
Thank you for taking the time to learn my story. If you're ready to talk about your home and want to share your story with me, I'd love the opportunity to connect.
