The kitchen is rustic and French with plenty of work space that run along the walls, with a rolling island that allows the room to retain an open feeling. There is light filling the white and natural wood filled room from a window that is over the in-counter brass country sink. Storage and the pantry are beneath the counter space on display in glass containers. The appliances are warm red and teal, designed to appear country and antique. Eighteen inches from the ceiling runs a shelf around the kitchen that holds knick-knacks, which provide character that anchor the décor in a whimsical domestic fantasy.
My home would be my showplace, covering up for the tragic flaws that I believe cast me as inferior. Placing the heavy belief that material things will bring me at the very least approval, if not validation. In an effort to grab at validation the subtler aspects of my personality are bulldozed over by generalizations that come with décor shorthand. The harder I work towards the materials that’ll bring me validation, the less easy it has been to achieve that validation. This is because what is validated is not who I am but a façade.