Pinch me! I’m Designing A House
There has always been this quiet thought in the back of my mind: what if I did this… for real?
Interior design has always pulled me in—HGTV on in the background 9/10 times, endless scrolling through design and renovation accounts, and a constant urge to rearrange a space (even if it’s just swapping out a pillow and calling it a “refresh”). But it never quite felt like something I was allowed to claim.
And then… I got hired for my first design project.
A full-on, actual, someone-trusting-me-with-their-space-and-paying-me-for-it kind of project. A true “pinch-me” moment. And in hindsight, it makes more sense than I ever realized.
In many ways, producing a ballet and designing a space are not all that different.
You start with the backdrop—setting the tone, the time period, the emotional undercurrent. Then you layer in the structure: furniture, form, dimension. And finally, the details—the props that bring personality and meaning into the story: Cinderella’s vintage photo of her mother, Snow White’s woven basket for fresh flowers, or Clara’s chaise lounge that transports her into a magical candy-coated dream.
It’s probably why I now approach every space the same way:
How should it feel?
Who is it for?
What story is it telling?
And how do all the layers come together so nothing feels accidental?
I’m about three weeks into the project now, and I can’t deny the electric buzz that comes with it.
I love the challenge of uncovering someone else’s style through trial, error, and a lot of “wait… but what if we tried this instead?” moments—all while keeping one eye firmly on the budget.
As a DIY girl, this is where I really come alive. In fact, I’d argue it gives me a slight advantage. There have already been a few moments where a piece we loved was just too expensive or not quite right, and my immediate thought was: wait… I can make something similar. And honestly? That’s where things started to click.
It opened up the design process in a completely different way—less about limitation, more about possibility. More about curating something that feels custom to the person, not just pulled from a catalogue. That’s when I had my first real moment of: okay… I actually got this. But I’d be lying if I said confidence showed up immediately.
The first room I’m designing in the house is for an 8 year old girl. Follow along here!
When I was first asked to design the house, I was excited—truly, deeply, pinch-me excited—but right behind that came the doubt. I’m not a licensed designer. I’m not a contractor. I didn’t study textiles or design history or spend years memorizing the difference between “pearl” and “White Dove.”
But I do know this: my creativity has always been there. It’s not something I learned from a textbook or a lecture. It’s something built from years of being surrounded by art, storytelling, and imagination—and never really turning that part of myself off.
So yes, maybe I’m doing a little “fake it till I make it” while I work through the imposter syndrome.
But isn’t that kind of the whole point? Leaping into something that scares you a little so you can meet a version of yourself you haven’t met yet. Taking risks. Making mistakes. Figuring it out as you go. And slowly, quietly, becoming someone you didn’t fully have access to before.