What changes in the present when you set your site ahead

When we moved into our house nearly two decades ago, it was like stepping into a well-preserved time capsule from the 1960s. The only previous owner was a childless couple. Presumably the wife had a fixation with trendy interior design when the house was built and then never felt the need to update anything in the years that followed. Bold, patterned wallpaper and statement lighting adorned nearly every room. The niece who inherited the home when her uncle died was kind enough to leave some of the furniture and several other odds and ends, like the two golden cherubs that adorned the mantel and a few polished stone ashtrays on the basement bar. One still sits on my desk holding paperclips and post it notes. There were some dated chairs, a couch, and a faux marble kitchen table. The items were a little worn, but in good shape otherwise. I was grateful to have a few free things to arrange in the house after we bought it. We had extended our budget to afford the single family home because our realtor assured us we’d be getting a lot of house for our money.

Right away we set to updating the interior by making inexpensive cosmetic changes. We took down the heavy drapes that hung from floor to ceiling in our bedroom which helped the musty smell immensely. We painted any unwallpapered walls. We discovered beautiful, hardwood floors under the worn carpets and made quick work of revealing them in the three bedrooms, leaving the living room carpet alone until many years later when all our toddlers were stable on their feet. The hall bathroom had flocked, black and white wallpaper with gold veining that was so dated it was cool again, but the bathroom was getting much heavier use now and I didn’t want that flocking to absorb the moisture of a thousand hot showers. One day I discovered a corner had popped up away from the wall. I gave it a tug and the paper came down in full sheets. I had the entire room done in minutes. What are those people talking about? Wallpaper is a breeze to remove! Then I tried again in the living room and the joke was on me. We rented a steamer and spent days perforating, scraping and peeling. The rest of the wallpaper went the same way. I suddenly understood why she never redecorated.

The biggest, and most expensive change came with the kitchen. It was dated but mostly functional. We lived with the baby pink flowered wallpaper and a broken dishwasher for a few years. Instead of a typical range, we had countertop burners and a bronze colored Chambers wall oven so old it wasn’t even large enough for today’s standard cookie sheet. I was baking brownies one day when the oven door suddenly fell open just as my then one-year-old son was toddling past. I knew then it was time for an update, but this was more than a bucket of paint. We needed professional help.

So, we went to Home Depot. At the time the American economy was in one of it’s many nosedives and we figured relying on a huge corporation would give us the most recourse if any issues cropped up years down the road. After we made our measurements, I sat down with Mike, Home Depot’s resident kitchen designer, at his desk in the middle of the warehouse store between walls of sample cabinets and display toilets suspended eight feet off the ground. I described my dream kitchen as other shoppers trundled past with bright orange carts brimming with garden supplies and hand tools.

Mike was a nice enough guy. He was a husky man a few decades older than myself (I was in my late twenties at the time). He had been designing kitchens a long time and assured me he would make the best use of my space. I trusted Mike because I had no reason not to. He talked a lot about flow and the number of steps between the trash can and the garbage disposal. He suggested swapping the fridge and the pantry to make the “work triangle” more triangular. He was all about optimizing output. When I told him I wanted white cabinets, he said I didn’t because they would show dirt. When I told him I wanted black countertops, he said I didn’t because they would be too dark. I let him talk me into dark maple cabinets with granite countertops that are cream with speckles of brown and what I like to call “stink bug gray.” It’s not bad after fifteen years, but I’d make a few changes. For starters, I’d move the trash can away from where I stand to prep all our food. And, I’d have white cabinets with black countertops.

I’d be a different person if I had white cabinets and black counters. I’ve spent hours in that kitchen prepping thousands of meals and snacks being subconsciously reminded of how I let a man talk me out of what I really wanted. That would never happen today. I have since learned that what I think I want is what I want. Today I would say “Thank you for your opinion, Mike, but I will rise to the occasion of cleaning my white kitchen cabinets. Please jot that down on the order form.”

I think Mike meant well. I think he really wanted me to have a nice kitchen to cook in. He just forgot to listen when I told him what that was. Mike assumed I would feel the same way about white cabinets as he did, but we were strangers. Where Mike feels irritation seeing the smears of dust and oil collecting on the cabinet doors, I would be grateful for the reminder to wipe everything down while the mess is still manageable. To him, black counters are dark and depressing, but to me they are a reason to open the doors and windows and let light in. Mike had his point of view and I had mine, but only one of us was going to live there. Maybe Mike was right and I would have regretted my choice after a few years, but I can’t know that now. I’m stuck with regret that I didn’t stick up for myself, which, in my opinion, is worse than having to suds up the cabinets a few times a year. And there is nothing creepier than slowly coming to focus on a camouflaged stink bug watching you dice a tomato a few inches away from the cutting board. Mike didn’t anticipate that.

I only know what it’s like to have the kitchen I didn’t really want. It’s only half my dream. The rest of it I had to share with Mike who I barely know. I should have invited him to dinner first so he could get a sense of how I worked. I could have brought along some inspiration images, I guess. Maybe it was silly of me to think I could convince him with my own words. What I don’t understand is how Mike got so sure that he knew the solution to my kitchen dilemma. He didn’t doubt himself once. He couldn’t see the vision for my kitchen because he was trapped in his own idea. The black counters wouldn’t be too dark with white cabinets, Mike. I’ve since learned to be wary of Mike’s kind of confidence. Someone who doesn’t consider alternatives might be stunted in other ways.

I don’t hold it against Mike (well, maybe I do a little bit), it was my responsibility to advocate for the domestic improvements my partner and I were funding. I was a young mom with low self-esteem, overwhelmed by the daily responsibilities of my life. The old kitchen was dangerous and in need of an immediate update. I didn’t have the luxury of time. So, I defaulted to Mike’s opinion believing it was more valuable than my own. I know better now, and I have Mike to thank for that.