Charlotte recently had a friend from dance up to the house for a sleepover. Admittedly, I was a little nervous about having this particular friend into our home for an extended period of time not because of her (at all) but because I felt slightly inadequate about our home. This friend lives in a house easily three to four times the size of ours. It’s in a stunning lakefront community and they have a dance studio and indoor playground in their basement. It’s a dream home, without a doubt.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my house, but it’s very much a starter home. It works for our family and the dynamic of our neighborhood is what’s kept us around so long (we truly have the very best neighbors in the world) but it’s far from our forever home, so to speak. Someday we’ll find that home, just as this dance family has found theirs.
So when this friend came over, I worried a little that she wouldn’t have fun at our house because, comparatively speaking hers has much more to offer. Much to my surprise, though, the girls had a blast. Also, to my surprise, her friend kept mentioning how cool she thought our house was. She loved the weird, eclectic vibe that I have going on around my house and I really didn’t understand why.
Somehow I’d convinced myself that this society we live in, the one that seemingly values things above all else, was going to influence how much fun my daughter’s friend had at our house. We don’t have a television in the living room, we don’t have a ton of fancy stuff, we just have what we have and we’re comfortable.
I realized that is my problem. Why was I so worried? Why do I feel inadequate compared to these women who seem to have it all together?
I expressed to the mom, who is also a friend of mine, that I’d had these fears and I was really glad her daughter had fun at my boring house when she said something that really struck me. She told me that her daughter loves our house so much because of the energy that’s inside. That it’s filled with love. That stuck with me.
Maybe it really doesn’t matter what size television you have in your family room or the amount of toys you have in the basement. At the end of the day, a house is just an empty home without love. I’m working on overcoming my own feelings of inadequacy and learning to appreciate this beautiful life I’ve cultivated in the meantime.