White walls are not for me

When I was growing up we always lived in rental places.  My mother was on welfare and my father was not around.  No matter how much you try to warm it up a rental place never feels completely like your own.  You can hang a picture, place your furniture, put your clothes in the closet and leave your towel on the bathroom floor but somehow the place is never really yours.  There is an awareness that another person holds the deed and can override your plans at any time.

As a young single mom I rented many apartments over the years.  One particular place was very nice with a spacious living room and a decent kitchen.  The walls were stark white creating a sterile feel.  I was denied permission to paint.  "We keep it white and that makes it easier when the next tenant rents here."

White walls mean that the place is not mine. The next tenant will be coming and I will be moving on.  No amount of decorating can create security when I was fully aware that it was a temporary situation. It might be a year or even several years but it would end.   White walls defined the entire situation for me.

When Bill and I got married I moved into his....I mean OUR home.   It was the very first time I ever lived in a home that was not a rental.   After getting settled I began a mission of banishing every white wall in the home. The kitchen was treated to three coats of bright mustard yellow paint.  The den became  "Jovial Orange" and the bathroom looked lovely in it's new shade of "Delphinium" (pssst- that's very blue.)   Painting the walls meant more to me than just decorating.  I had security....finally.  And there is not a white wall in this home.