Building a Life I Can Live In
June 28, 2025
Every project is more than a task — it’s an act of self-respect, a quiet milestone in becoming someone I trust.
There’s still so much to do in this house.
Half of the living room is done now — and I’m really happy with how it’s turned out — but there’s still decorating to finish, other rooms to bring into alignment, and a long list of little things that need fixing, improving, or changing. But weirdly, I don’t feel overwhelmed by that. I feel grounded by it.
Because it means there’s always something to work on.
Always something to move toward.
Always some way to channel what I’m carrying into something tangible.
These projects give me purpose.
They regulate me.
They remind me of who I’m becoming.
When life feels uncertain — when relationships are complicated, or when I’m carrying grief I can’t always name — I know I can pick up a tool, take a small action, and reconnect to that part of me that builds. That keeps going.
That’s not avoidance. That’s self-respect in motion.
Every wall I paint, every screw I drive, every fence panel I line up — it’s a quiet milestone. It says:
“Look what I’ve done. Look who I’m becoming.”
I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m just trying to create a space I can live inside of. A life I can stand inside of. A version of myself I can trust to keep going — even when things are hard.
This work isn’t a distraction.
It’s the path itself.
A Glimpse of Where I’m At
