A Message From My Pink Walls

If I was in trouble as a kid, my parents could never use the punishment of sending me to my room. I would like that too much.

In my room, integral parts of my life were waiting for me. My books were waiting to draw me into their stories, my iPod (or portable CD player in the early years) was waiting for me to pop the headphones on and let the rest of the world fade away, my laptop and TV in later years were waiting for me to engage in the ever-changing media world.

I have lived in the same house since I was six. Since then my room has been rearranged approximately a million times and the memorabilia on the walls has shifted, but one thing still taunts me from letting my 7-year-old self make decorating choices.

Pink. Walls.

Sydney circa 2003/2004 was just giddy about her pink walls and floral bedspread. Looking back at this point in time, it’s hard to believe I was ever that young. (I was still very much in my Aaron Carter phase, and the Jonas Brothers wouldn’t release their iconic self-titled album until 2007.)

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve wondered why my parents let lil kiddo Sydney make such a major decision.

Probably because I was stubborn as hell and wouldn’t quit bugging them but that’s beside the point.

But luckily my 13-year-old self was there to save the day and do a revamping of the room. I was older then. More mature. I mean I was in 8th grade, that’s a big deal. So here’s a brilliant idea… let’s make two of the walls brown and the room can have a Parisian theme!!!

Brilliant at the time? Possibly.

Brilliant to present day 20-year-old Sydney? Not so much.

Even though I would much rather have my walls be a more neutral color to allow more decorative freedom, I can’t help but feel thankful for the little bits of my stages of life bleeding into each other.

The childlike brightness from my pink walls, accented with the traveling teenage spirit, sprinkled with concert tickets and photos from the most recent evolution of myself, brings together every bit of my life that has made me who I am.

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The top right corner of this board houses the ticket from my very first concert: Hannah Montana, Miley Cyrus, and the Jonas Brothers. My dad asked me if JB would play “Goodnight and Goodbye” last because, ya know, they were saying “goodnight” and “goodbye.” They didn’t.

 

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The latest picture collage added to this hodgepodge room not only hosts pictures taken within the last year, but also my most recent concert ticket, Panic! at the Disco. I guess you can say my music taste has evolved. (Still love a classic JoBro jam sesh though.)

I’m sure wherever I live at 26 will have a completely different theme to this room I’ve grown up in. But pieces of who I was in this room will follow me to every room because 7-year-old, 13-year-old, and 20-year-old Sydney will always be part of me.

Keep on shining,

Syd

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