The nest

I used to be that person who tidy up the whole house before I welcome an expected guess. I dusted every.possibly.dust.catcher.thing. and it means a very deep cleaning the whole house (the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, the storage) while that expected guess will just sit in the guest room for like an hour at the most.

I wanted to be seen as a tidy lady, and whenever my personal space a.k.a the nest is exposed to a guest, I want the guess to see that there’s nothing in my nest except for cleanliness and neatness. And all this happened when I was also having a toddler and a baby. Yes… I am trying to reach the impossible for a very minuscule award: an approval look from a guest.

I have learned a long way from that point, and now I realized that it’s a very normal that we only want to expose all the flashy and shiny thing about ourselves, our nest, and everything about us. And the social media nowadays is actually giving a very broad platform for us to display our life.

It’s often we see celebrity or celeb-gram shows to the whole world their nests, from a tiny homes to a converted bus, to a humongous house complete with pool and an oak forest at the backyard, all with a beaming pride. Today I’m going to show you my home, come in…. Etc….

I have no objections whatsoever toward these people, but I do wish to state a reminder that A home is a nest for us to rest and to have a moments away from this ruthless world. People will judge everything, no matter what, there’s no “perfect nest” that will satisfy everyone.

Cheers, your nest is perfect, really, all about you is well. 

Karin Sabrina.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s