As you came down the hall, my room was the closest one to the family room. Often, after I was sent to bed I would lay on the carpet in my doorway and watch whatever my parents were watching on TV.
During fifth grade, I remember re-decorating. We painted the walls lavender, except for one accent wall that got wallpaper. The wallpaper was white with small bouquets of pastel flowers. My parents got a new bed, and I got their old queen size bed. My mom sewed a white eyelet valance for the window.
I loved everything about it. It felt great to have a place and room decorated how I wanted. I think back fondly of how much my mom helped me to feel ownership for my own space and I really try to give that same sense of ownership to my own kids.
The walls in the room are yellow now. The furniture is different. The closet (which never had a door when I lived here) is neatly closed. And yet when I close my eyes in the room, I can remember who I used to be. I remember being that young girl, and though 21 years have passed by I don't really think I've changed much.