Maybe You’re Not Supposed to Fit Back In

It’s the last month of Q3 and August went by in a flurry of sunshine, construction drawings, concepts, finish samples, meetings, back to school shopping and children’s activities (So. Much. Driving…)

During my drives, I get to listen to podcasts, make calls, and sometimes just think (my best ideas like to hit when I least expect them to… and usually when I don’t have easy access to a pen and paper 😉).

The strangest of things inspire me to write, and this time, it was the feeling of going back in time.

Recently, I found myself back in a part of my life I hadn’t visited in a very long time. A young friend had passed away, and at the funeral I was reunited with a family we had grown up alongside before life, as it tends to do, pulled us in different directions.

It had been more than a decade and, for a moment, I felt like an older version of myself had walked into the room alongside me.

Everything was familiar. But I felt… different.

It was a little like putting on a favourite outfit from ten years ago. You remember how it felt. You remember loving it—but somehow, it doesn’t fit quite right anymore.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable that feeling is.

Not because anything is necessarily wrong with the clothes.

You’ve just changed.

It was a strange cocktail of familiarity and unease.

We outgrow clothes. We outgrow routines. We outgrow relationships.

Sometimes we even outgrow the spaces we live in.

You can stay with what you know because it’s comfortable. But sometimes comfort isn’t actually comfort anymore. It’s familiarity.

And those aren’t the same thing.

If you’re like some of my clients, you are all but begging for change.

You want your home to feel more sophisticated. More considered. More personal. You want better function, better flow, better use of the space. You want the thing you’ve been imagining—or pinning on your Pinterest boards—but haven’t quite been able to articulate.

And during the consultation, these clients are often incredibly excited by the possibilities.

Then we start designing.

And suddenly, the things that make the design actually different can feel uncomfortable.

The colour is a little bolder than what they’ve had before.

The millwork isn’t arranged the way they’re used to seeing it.

The new layout asks them to rethink how they use a room.

A material feels unfamiliar.

And then it’s:

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Could we do something safer?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

And I understand.

Sometimes what clients call “not me” is actually just “not familiar to me.”

So if we remove every element that makes them uncomfortable, we haven’t actually designed a new home. We’ve simply updated the old one - we’ve put lipstick on the pig.

A great renovation isn’t necessarily about creating something wildly different for the sake of being different. It’s about creating a home that reflects who you are now, rather than preserving the visual language of who you were ten years ago.

And that makes my role as a designer much more interesting than “picking pretty things.”

I’m helping people tolerate the discomfort of becoming.

A bolder kitchen doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not you.

A different layout doesn’t mean you’ve made a mistake.

A colour you’ve never lived with doesn’t mean you won’t love living with it.

And the designer’s job is partly to know when to listen to that instinct—and when to gently challenge it (shoutout to all my past and current clients #iykyk 😉).

Transformation requires us to let go of some of what was comfortable.

Not everything.

Just enough to make room for who we are now and where we’re heading.

Maybe that’s the uncomfortable truth about change.

Moving forward can feel strange because we’re stepping into something we haven’t experienced before.

But sometimes going backwards feels strange for the exact opposite reason.

Because we’ve changed.

The life that once fit us perfectly may no longer fit the person we’ve become.

Our homes are no different.

A renovation isn’t really about making your house look different.

It’s about asking whether the way you’re living—and the space you’re living in—still reflects who you are and supports your wellbeing.

Sometimes that means keeping the things that have always felt like you.

And sometimes it means being willing to say goodbye to them.

Because you aren’t designing for the person you were when you moved in.

You’re designing for the person who lives there now.

Perhaps that’s why the best designs can feel a little uncomfortable at first.

They’re not asking you to go backwards.

They’re asking you to move forward.

And sometimes, the first step forward feels a lot like taking off some old clothes that you loved…

and realizing you don’t actually want to put them back on.

XO,

Cynthia

Maybe your house isn’t the problem. Maybe you’ve just outgrown it.

If your home no longer feels like it reflects who you are, how you live, or where you’re headed, you don’t necessarily need to settle for “good enough.”

You might just need to look at it differently.

Ready to see what your home could become? Let’s talk. →