This morning while unloading the dishwasher I looked at my mismatched plates, bowls, and coffee mugs and thought back to a time when I attempted to use a matching set of dinnerware. It didn’t work for me. I tried to enjoy the new dinnerware, but missed my ragtag collection of plates and bowls purchased over months when shopping the aisles of thrift stores, Old Time Pottery, Ikea, and Ross,
Every bowl, plate, and mug in my cabinets has a story for me. Some are just a random purchase because I liked the color, my mugs have sayings or images that I enjoy, and some are pieces picked out with my boyfriend on rambles through Ross. Each one has something about it that makes me happy.
What’s the point of this post? Something to do with accepting who you are, even when people around you don’t understand it. What had spurred my purchase of matching dinnerware was a friend who had a thing about adults having matching plates. At that point in my life I was trying to reassemble my life and myself and wasn’t even sure of who I was. Fast forward over 10 years and I know I’m the girl who will always enjoy mixing up the colors and patterns in my life… dinnerware, mugs, cups, blankets, etc. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else and I don’t have to make sense to anyone else.
Part of the joy of getting older, for me at least, has been the realization that I can be me and people can like me or not like me. When I was younger that stung and there were times I bent who I was to keep friendships. The beauty of time and the wisdom that comes with it has provided me with an understanding that the true friendships embrace the differences in personality and don’t try to change one to a duplicate image.
For over four years I have been fortunate to be in a relationship with a man who follows his own style, being uniquely himself. This relationship has encouraged me in my journey to create my life in the patterns and styles that are unique to me.
Needless to say, I look around my house now and see a space that is fully me. More than dinnerware, it’s the artwork, the clothes, the plants, and the books. As I whittle away at belongings in an effort to simplify life, I keep items that bring joy to my life or that have sweet memories attached. In the mix of this all I find that reality is there are fewer items I want to keep and more memories I want to make.
For those trying to figure out who they are or struggling because it seems like you don’t quite fit with most people you meet… hang in there, be you, and find your people (no matter how small the group may be). Trust me, there are a few other people who will understand and appreciate your love of mismatched things.