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In my bed(room)

Lucy ’22 poses for a photo in her bedroom. Photo taken by Lucy ’22.

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I’ve missed a lot of things because of quarantine, like going to concerts or hugging my friends. But despite these losses, I did gain one thing. An infinite love of my bedroom.

Now I know what you might be thinking. “Lucy, we all love our bedrooms! It’s where we sleep and maybe get work done. How could we not love having our own space?” I agree with that 100%; I do those things too; but I believe the true connection people have with their bedrooms comes from a personal place. At least speaking from experience, it’s the personal quirks of my bedroom that mean the most to me. In November 2020, I spent a solid week on Pinterest and at the UPS store finding and printing different posters for my room and I spent the following week just putting them all up. Every scratch on my wall and every book in my bookshelf is memorialized in my mind. In 10th grade, I tore into the plaster on my wall when I shoved a drawer out too hard after hearing that my family was going to watch an episode of “Downton Abbey” without me. There is a sticker on my dresser of a tiny gold star from fall of 2018 that I refuse to take off because it “holds memory.” No, I don’t remember what that memory is now. 

It’s these personal memories that make my bedroom so important to me, not just the work I do or the hours I sleep within it. So you get it. I love my room. But loving my room so deeply makes it that much harder to know that after next year, it will no longer be mine. My sisters, unlike me, have had to share a room for almost the entirety of their lives. My little sister Minerva informs me daily, next year, she will be taking over my room. So goodbye, not only to my Taylor Swift and One Direction posters, film photos, and newspapers that line the walls, but every item that falls within them. 

This news devastated me for a while. I’m not going to lie, it’s a little unsettling to know that when I move out for college, I will never come back to my same personal haven ever again. But as I’ve let the news sink in I’m starting to see the good in it. I’m really excited to let my little sisters, Dalton and Minerva, have the same attachment to their individual rooms as I have had to mine. I can’t wait to see what pictures they put up, necklaces they organize, and honestly, whatever they choose to do with their newfound personal space. Also, even if I take down the stickers and posters, the passion behind putting those things up in the first place won’t go away! I’m still the same me, with or without the room to prove it. I guess moving out for college is an important step towards adulthood. Yeah, I’ll miss my room and I’ll miss my childhood. I’ll miss them both a lot. But I guess knowing my days in it are numbered makes me love my room and the experiences I’m having this year all the more as they happen. And when I’m visiting home, I’ll be coming back to sleep in my own bed. If Minerva’s taking over my room permanently, the least she can do is give me one night.