Recently I have been having moments where I just pause and think "Who am I?". Usually when I have these thoughts I am cooking food (as opposed to just heating up something in a container) or cleaning, or ironing or washing, or when I am getting excited about seeing a great shag pile rug. I just stand back for a moment in disbelief as I realise that I am becoming domesticated, and even worse I am loving it!!
Before I moved in with The Boy, I was a total Princess. I had a very structured beauty routine, that always took up every Saturday morning. I had gel nails, that were maintained every 3 weeks, my hair, which was 'lightened' every 6 weeks along with a cut, I had a facial with microdermabrasion every 6 weeks, and every fortnight, I had a 45 minute massage. The only cleaning I ever did was my bedroom, and the only cooking I did was boiling water to throw in some pasta. I didn't care about furniture, the only thing I did care about was the latest lip gloss from Lancôme and which celebrity was currently in rehab.
I was living with mum of course, who spoilt me way to much with cooking my meals and doing the washing and keeping the other rooms in the house clean. I love my mum and understand her way of showing love is by doing these things, but I have told her numerous times that if she doesn't stop soon my brother will still be there when he turns 30, and probably even 40. I have lived out of home several times before. The first and second time mum insisted that I bring home all my dirty clothes to her, which I of course accepted and she would wash and iron them for me. The third and fourth time, I had to do my own clothes washing, but in return my meals were cooked for me, and (I hate to admit this) at all times I did very little cleaning, as usually the other person(s) involved reached their dirty threshold before I did and would do it.
Of course, when I met The Boy all that changed. I was now in love with the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with and as we moved in together it was time for me to ditch the Princess act and stop living in fantasy land and grow up and live in reality as a fully fledged adult. No more help from mum and no more pampering. I' will admit now that in the first month of this I was having constant panic attacks, and when it was time for me to see my shrink she gave me no sympathy and told me this anxiety was my own doing and I had to "take of the tiara and focus on being a domestic goddess" her words, not mine.
It was a very rude shock, but now almost 7 months on, I have settled into this new life very well. I no longer care about the celebrities and I have stopped the massages and even grown natural nails (but still maintaining the hair and facials - a girl has gotta have something) but instead care about having a nice and comfortable home. I have started to see the cooking and cleaning and washing and ironing and all those things as activities that make our little "Penthouse" into our little private haven. When I do these things I feel very adult and as I look around the room I think that maybe a nice green shag pile rug would really complement our retro chairs. Then I realise that this is who I am. I have finally emerged into the grown up woman I always dreamt of when I was a little girl. And even though it is a stark contrast to my former life, it just feels right, it feels natural, it feels like I am home and I am exactly who I am meant to be.
I would love to take credit for the spaghetti bolognese that was last night dinner in the picture above, but I can't. The Boy made it. Until I get around to posting a pic of myself up I will tell you that I have blonde hair. Yesterday morning as I was looking for the bread in the freezer I picked up 1/2 kg of mince and put it on top of the fridge. In the afternoon The Boy told me that we were having mince for dinner. I asked why and he told me because I left it out on top of the fridge to defrost. Blondie here forgot to put it back. He was going to put it onto the bbq and make hamburger patties, but I told him to add some tomato pasta sauce and spaghetti pasta and we'll have spaghetti bolognese. Only a domesticated woman could make spaghetti bolognese from thawed out mince that was left on top of the fridge.
Before I moved in with The Boy, I was a total Princess. I had a very structured beauty routine, that always took up every Saturday morning. I had gel nails, that were maintained every 3 weeks, my hair, which was 'lightened' every 6 weeks along with a cut, I had a facial with microdermabrasion every 6 weeks, and every fortnight, I had a 45 minute massage. The only cleaning I ever did was my bedroom, and the only cooking I did was boiling water to throw in some pasta. I didn't care about furniture, the only thing I did care about was the latest lip gloss from Lancôme and which celebrity was currently in rehab.
I was living with mum of course, who spoilt me way to much with cooking my meals and doing the washing and keeping the other rooms in the house clean. I love my mum and understand her way of showing love is by doing these things, but I have told her numerous times that if she doesn't stop soon my brother will still be there when he turns 30, and probably even 40. I have lived out of home several times before. The first and second time mum insisted that I bring home all my dirty clothes to her, which I of course accepted and she would wash and iron them for me. The third and fourth time, I had to do my own clothes washing, but in return my meals were cooked for me, and (I hate to admit this) at all times I did very little cleaning, as usually the other person(s) involved reached their dirty threshold before I did and would do it.
Of course, when I met The Boy all that changed. I was now in love with the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with and as we moved in together it was time for me to ditch the Princess act and stop living in fantasy land and grow up and live in reality as a fully fledged adult. No more help from mum and no more pampering. I' will admit now that in the first month of this I was having constant panic attacks, and when it was time for me to see my shrink she gave me no sympathy and told me this anxiety was my own doing and I had to "take of the tiara and focus on being a domestic goddess" her words, not mine.
It was a very rude shock, but now almost 7 months on, I have settled into this new life very well. I no longer care about the celebrities and I have stopped the massages and even grown natural nails (but still maintaining the hair and facials - a girl has gotta have something) but instead care about having a nice and comfortable home. I have started to see the cooking and cleaning and washing and ironing and all those things as activities that make our little "Penthouse" into our little private haven. When I do these things I feel very adult and as I look around the room I think that maybe a nice green shag pile rug would really complement our retro chairs. Then I realise that this is who I am. I have finally emerged into the grown up woman I always dreamt of when I was a little girl. And even though it is a stark contrast to my former life, it just feels right, it feels natural, it feels like I am home and I am exactly who I am meant to be.
I would love to take credit for the spaghetti bolognese that was last night dinner in the picture above, but I can't. The Boy made it. Until I get around to posting a pic of myself up I will tell you that I have blonde hair. Yesterday morning as I was looking for the bread in the freezer I picked up 1/2 kg of mince and put it on top of the fridge. In the afternoon The Boy told me that we were having mince for dinner. I asked why and he told me because I left it out on top of the fridge to defrost. Blondie here forgot to put it back. He was going to put it onto the bbq and make hamburger patties, but I told him to add some tomato pasta sauce and spaghetti pasta and we'll have spaghetti bolognese. Only a domesticated woman could make spaghetti bolognese from thawed out mince that was left on top of the fridge.
2 comments:
I love being a domestic goddess - it has been a good 9 years now :). I'm glad you are enjoying it too.
Hey there! Stopping by your blog for the 1st time. My hubby and I got married and moved in together back in Oct and I so know what you mean. I had such a single life before and made decisions based on me, not "us". We've had some growing pains and I expect a more to come, but it's been a great 7 months too. Enjoy!
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