Blog for Digs…My Childhood Bedroom.

As promised, I am presenting a new series this month that explores various organizations close to my heart. I am kicking this series off with a very special post on behalf of Blog for Digs, a fundraiser event benefitting Dwell With Dignity, “a non-profit group of interior designers and volunteers dedicated to creating inspiring homes for families struggling with homelessness and poverty”. I am a gigantor fan of this project as it is based on the idea of children’s bedrooms. I encourage you to check out the links above, as well as a fellow Texan’s lovely blog, The Hidden List, for the post to follow.

My childhood bedroom was…

A variety of actual rooms but consistently my own private oasis. An introvert at heart, I relished time alone. I did not invite just anyone into my oasis, for it was sacred territory. However, if you did receive an invitation, you could count yourself amongst the privileged. For to invite you into my bedroom was an invitation into my world.

From a young age, I was interested in creating a space of my own. I can remember my bedroom in Crane, Texas. At a wee three and four years old, I owned a record player that lit up with multi-colored lights on the front. Not merely content with the effect of the lights, I wanted to know how they made my room glow at night. So, I would often remove the front cover and familiarize myself with the light bulbs. Red, green, a yellowish hue, all inserted into a silver foiled backing. I owned a record collection that contained such hits such as The Oak Ridge Boys’ “Elvira” and John Schneider’s “Now or Never”. The albums stacked neatly next to my record player, I cannot tell you how many dances were choreographed to the lyrics “Ba-oom papa oom papa mow mow”. I even recall having what I still agree to be a brilliant idea while this was my room. A ceiling covered in stuffed animals! Although I am sad to report this never came to fruition, I do believe it was the beginning of many other brilliant design ideas to follow.

My next bedroom, in Odessa, Texas, seemed created just for me. With built-in bookshelves all along one wall, floor-to-ceiling, I had a spot for all of my records, books, and collection of animal miniatures. My light-up record player went with me to Odessa but the records were upgraded. Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album rocked my five-year-old world, Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” album followed shortly as did Janet Jackson’s “Control”. With a poster of Ralph Macchio on the inside of my closet door, I began to create something quite special in this home. After a year or two, my little sister was born and I could no longer use the spare bedroom as the very coveted space for a table and blanket fort. The forts moved to my own room for a moment until I realized one could not sufficiently create dances with a fort in the middle of their room. The fort must go!

At almost eight years old, we moved to Fort Worth, Texas. As I told my husband, I thought Fort Worth was a magical forest land compared to West Texas. I believe my room reflected this interpretation. Upstairs and tucked away, only the sliding doors into the bathroom I shared with my sister, kept me from truly escaping into a dream land. At this house, I acquired the first furniture that I was able to choose. A white bed with large drawers underneath, a matching dresser, and a desk. My first desk! The drawers safely stowed away my Barbie’s and the desk kept all of my papers contained. Looking back, I think was my first foray into organization. This was the bedroom in which my choreographed dances elevated to an entirely new level. The dances I often created in this room were performed in school talent shows and on various stages the dance company I was a member of performed upon. This room was where the magic happened.

Shortly after my upstairs dream world, my parents purchased another home. I spent almost ten years in this home so I often think of this as my true childhood bedroom. This room was an upgrade, in terms of solitude, from the last. Sequestered on the opposite end of the house from all of the other bedrooms, I was truly independent. Freedom into my teenage years! The built-in bookshelves returned, as they were built to fit my room. I upgraded to an actual stereo and even received an Epson computer as a Christmas gift. I spent hours at my desk, typing, creating, printing. The sound most often heard from my room was that of a dot-matrix printer. I think my parents were astounded to discover just how fast the printer ink disappeared during the first few years of computer ownership. However, I could not be bothered. I was a scientist, a banker, a fashion designer, and a marine biologist in my mind. I was making discoveries and documenting them at every turn. I had my own room, my own computer, my own thoughts – this was what needed to happen all along. I officially created my first file system at this address. I read all of the books on my shelves and even many in my mother’s secret book cabinets. I still somewhere have a file folder full of sketches I made for my fashion “collections”. And I always had a stack of magazines on the bottom shelf of my stereo cabinet, corners folded down to indicate items I liked.

At some point, probably around age seventeen, I decided painting my room to reflect the color scheme of the “Dazed and Confused” movie poster would be a wonderful idea. My mother said I could if I paid for everything. Seeing as I had worked as a dance teacher and jewelry designer for many years already, this was no problem. Gallons of green and purple paint, a thrift store comforter tie-dyed in my backyard, new curtains, and a case of glow-in-the-dark paint later and I was set. This was the perfect room for my friends to congregate.

I have very mixed feelings about this room, as so many things happened during my tenure there. However, at each stage of my life, the room reflected who I was at the time. My bedroom always provided me with a sense of security, no matter what was happening around me and I was allowed to be myself there. I dreamed of changing the world, confronted issues of equality with Barbie, discovered how my hair and blood looked under a microscope way before we did in school, listened to the oldies station every night before bed, listened to horrible electronic music as a teenager, talked on the phone for hours past my bedtime, and said, “There is only best and that’s you, Mom!” from my bed every night as I went to sleep. My room provided me with the freedom to discover who I was.

When I signed up for Blog for Digs, I did so because I thought of how important having a space of my own was to forming my own identity as a child. Every child should have the opportunity to feel a sense of stability, allowing them to explore all of their dreams and desires. For, with a sense of security, a child’s mind is free to dream the greatest of dreams, planting the seeds for real adventures in the future.

I encourage you, this holiday season, to help a child dream. Blog for Digs is a wonderful opportunity to do so however; there are many great opportunities. Find one and make a difference this year.

I will see you back here soon for another installment in my latest series. Until then, dare to dream, readers! And don’t forget to pay the Hidden List a visit by clicking here…

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