Holidays were always a time for our family to get together. I have vivid memories of Thanksgiving as a child.
Every Thanksgiving we’d gather at my grandparents’ for a feast. We walked into my grandparents’ house and my grandfather would smile and greet us. There would be homemade biscuits that my grandmother had made. If you’d arrive early enough, they’d still be warm. She’d let us have one and then ask if we wanted butter or jelly. Of course, she wouldn’t wait for us to answer. Before we knew it, she had placed several different flavors of jelly on the snack bar for us to choose from.
As a child, I didn’t notice, but thinking back now, my grandmother spent hours and hours on her feet, cooking. A huge turkey was always cooked with my grandmother’s homemade stuffing, or dressing, as she called it.
Eventually, it was time to sit and break bread together as a family. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, along with my parents and my brother would all stop what we were doing and take our places.
Food covered my grandparents’ large table. It overflowed onto the snack bar, the China cabinet and even the stove. Desserts were placed in a huddle on the countertop by the fridge.
I remember the conversations, the laughter and the adults getting onto us when we got too loud or rowdy when we were supposed to be eating.
My grandfather sat at one end of the table and my grandmother at the other end. My grandmother was up and down throughout the meal, making sure her family had everything they wanted. After a few minutes of this, one of the adults would tell her to sit down and eat.
Once, as I sat at the snack bar with my cousins, I looked over at the “adult table” and made contact with my grandfather. Our eyes met and he smiled, his eyes glowing with such happiness and pride at his family gathered around his table. He winked at me and returned to the conversation at the adult table.
A lot has changed since my childhood. 5 places at that Thanksgiving table are now empty. There is a new generation of great grandchildren who are getting to experience traditions that began with their great grandparents, at their table, coming together for holidays.
As time marches on, we create new traditions and people aren’t just down the road from each other anymore. We’re spread out, raising children of our own, trying to keep up with jobs, appointments, and . . . life.
However, every Thanksgiving, we gather. We break bread and are thankful for the time, the company, the traditions and the memories we’ve been gifted.
The worst mistake I have ever made was when I believed complete strangers when they told me I had ruined my life. One look at my swollen belly and their opinions would fling from their mouths with no abandon. Impressionable, scared, and understandably immature, the eighteen year old synapses in my brain accepted their slurs as reality. I believed them when they would tell me I had ruined my life. Some would go so far as to suggest I had prematurely ruined my unborn baby’s life as well.
All of this would be hurled at me as I checked out their groceries. These customers didn’t stop to think about the person behind the counter. They had no idea the girl they were belittling was a straight A student. They had no clue this was my first job and I gave up taking the AP exams to buy diapers. Just like my doctors, they saw a pregnant teen and assumed the worst.
Unfortunately, for many years, I believed them. I began to question my motives- was I thinking about my baby or just myself? Was I really fit for motherhood? Instead of drugs and alcohol I was consumed by literature and creating poetry. Strangers found it hard to believe me when I suggested I didn’t fit the trope they desperately wanted me to fall into. And when a lie is told to you enough, you begin to think it is the truth.
It didn’t help that my first job wouldn’t allow even two weeks for maternity leave. Looking back, I know they were breaking the law but I didn’t understand. They didn’t explain to me how I could use a doctor’s note to excuse a much needed absence recovering from birth and bonding with my child. Nevertheless, the only choice that could be made was to quit. So I did.
This spiraled me into a financial tornado I feared I couldn’t climb out of. Childcare cost too much, but any job I could find paid me pennies over the cut-off for government assistance. The assumptions were beginning to sound right. My child and I were facing a life of destitution and it was all my fault. The weight of expectations to fail were getting heavier by the day.
Unwilling to give up, college was still in my foresights. It was on my list of priorities, until it wasn’t. Juggling a full time job in retail, a baby, and the pressure of toxic and oftentimes dangerous situations with my baby’s “other” family proved to be exhausting and unsustainable. I failed college algebra four times. I wasn’t allowed back for several years. My dead end job became my only hope.
Once again, it was becoming clear to me that those strangers were correct. I believed that I had to choose a career or motherhood. Women apparently still aren’t allowed to have both. In this modern day world, I found myself in the same place as millions of other women- was I a mother or a career woman? And if I was a mother, it was somehow seen as a life ruined simply because I was unwed.
Over the next few years, I found my groove. The layers of expected failure began to drip off of me. Slowly, I peeled each unrealistic expectation of the overtly successful women on social mediaI compared myself to. I found that I did not have to appease every quip and insult hurled at me. The only person I wanted to make proud was my son. And let me tell you, it was easy. A three year old’s perception of success is whether or not you can make mac n cheese. I became a master of mac n cheese.
As the ideals of society began to slip away, it no longer bothered me when people would gawk at my young motherhood. It no longer bothered me when it was suggested I would amount to nothing because of my lack of education and my many years stuck in retail. All that mattered to me was what my son thought.
According to my son, I was successful. He felt loved. He felt safe. He felt confident in me. He didn’t understand the pressures of society. This child had no concept of faraway vacations, social media influencers, or even over the top experiences he was missing out on.
Each layer that drifted off of me allowed a new layer of success to wrap itself around my life. Letting go of my fear of being hurt, I found a partner who not only loved me but loved my then three year old son. Together, we began waddling through each hurtle life threw at us. This allowed me to let go of my inhibitions and doubts of ever “finding myself”. Each time I found a new way to be proud of my life, be proud of my successes, I found it was easier to climb out of the hole society was convinced I had dug myself in. Yet, I still struggled to clamber myself out of my retail job. Each year that passed made it that much more difficult and it was hard to believe I could amount to anything I wanted to be.
And then the pandemic happened. My children could no longer go to school and like many workers labeled “essential” it became clear that we were actually the pawns. We were seen as the ones who were disposable and yet, if we had stopped working, we would have shut down our entire country. My academic probation was up and it was time to go back to school.
It meant many sleepless nights. I would submit work between getting my kids set up for their days and my grueling work schedule. But my sights were set and there was no going back. Exhausting myself, I earned my bachelors in two and a half years. Not only that, but I graduated summa cum laude. The day I had the privilege to walk across the stage and accept my diploma in front of my kids was one of the best days of my life.
That night, I selfishly asked my son if he was proud of me. I apologized for not completing my degree sooner and promised him I was on the path of a new and better life. That was when he looked me dead in the eye and said “Mom, I have always been proud of you.”
It was then suddenly clear, if we just looked at our children, we would see how wildly successful we are. We would see the world from their point of view and would be able to walk away from the massive double standards we have allowed to hang over us. Having children wasn’t the end for me. It was the beginning of finding strength, love, and most importantly, acceptance.
On a warm summer night at the Pine Resort, Santa Ana hosted a local legendary Cumbia act, The Campero Band. Leo Linares, a charismatic and charming Falsetto, was the bandleader. Lindo, as they liked to call him, had a seductive stage presence.
“I love Lindo.”
Lupe was a 16-year-old fan. She purchased all his albums and begged her parents to attend one of his shows. Lupe’s father, Jorge, scored a pair of tickets on her birthday. Her adult aunt, Jessie, would be her chaperone.
“Take care of my baby,” Jorge told Rebecca.
They arrived early to the show, where Jessie made eye contact with the percussionist, Pedro. He swooped in, and they were soon engaged in conversation. He then summoned the bartender for the Lindo Special. Partygoers had crowded into the venue by showtime, and Jessie drank liberally. As the Cumbia played and her hips swayed, Lindo and his band enchanted Jessie and the dancers under the night sky.
“Vamos!” she gleefully exclaimed.
Hours later, Jessie was shaken awake. Her clothes had been torn, and her hair was a mess. Fear and confusion overwhelmed her. Suddenly, she heard a wail.
“Lupe.”
The screams now quieted, and the approaching male voices grew louder. Jessie recognized Lindo and Pedro through her slightly opened eyelids. Behind them, two more women, beaten and battered, crashed onto the filthy beds. Laughing, he and the band members left the room.
“We have the young one in my room,” he said.
Jessie ran to the door. At the end of the hallway, she looked into the room and found Lindo’s dungeon; Lupe was his slave. Suddenly feeling a tap on her shoulder, Jessie turned away from the fire.
“Please, no, don’t!”
Soon after, Jorge learned the girls were held captive at the Pine Resort, where many of the town’s women were enslaved as drug-addicted sex workers.
“I’ll find them,” he declared.
The vengeful inclination to search for his daughter motivated him. Jorge entered one of the trap houses outside the resort. Walking through the damp and dark house and near a filthy bathroom, her eyes void of light, he found Lupe. She was barely alive, her skin bruised and wounded, riddled with needle holes. With all his strength, he cradled her, and Lupe took her final breath in her daddy’s arms.
“My baby,” he whispered.
Color palettes and furniture arrangement and aesthetic themes, oh my! Interior design is one of the most fun aspects of setting up a new home – but what about the life you’ll live in it? Lifestyle design goes quite a bit deeper, and it starts with a strategic choice of house or apartment. Here’s what you need to keep in mind.
Start by taking stock of the various material factors that determine your day-to-day life. These span everything from your income bracket to your community. Here are some questions to get you started:
You’ll probably come up with a few more as you go. Don’t forget things like transportation and nearby facilities.
Next, reflect on the immaterial factors that influence your notion of an ideal living space. These include your personal values, interests, likes and dislikes, your fundamental beliefs, and your deal breakers. For example: you’re a fan of history and the fine arts, but you’re not much of an outdoorsy type. Your ideal home will then have museums and galleries in the area, but you can do without gyms and sports fields. Or: you highly value the environment, so you’d rather live in a place that has a robust recycling program, and you’d absolutely despise being forced to drive everywhere.
What would you like to spend most of your time on? This will inform the practical features that your living space will need to have. Consider your family situation, any side hustles, your hobbies, your passions, and your social habits.
If you often have people staying over, you’ll need guest bedrooms and possibly more bathrooms. Children, especially teens, should each have their own room too. If you’re working from home, you want a dedicated office tailored to your professional activities. If you run your own business from home, consider production spaces, e.g. a studio or workshop.
Bookworms and researchers might dream about a private study or a household library. A passionate cook will want a smart kitchen with ample storage and counters, while a fashion lover might trade bedroom space for a luxurious walk-in closet. If you love to host and entertain, you’ll want a large patio or other appropriate venue – maybe one indoors and one outdoors.
The immediate surroundings will heavily influence your home design, whether you’re looking to buy a house, searching for apartments for rent, or building from scratch on your own land. Factor in the temperature, lighting, noise, and local animals and plants.
If you’re settling down in a cold climate, you want good insulation, a robust heating system, and maybe even a central fireplace. Conversely, if you’re in a hot environment, look into AC, pools, fans, and the like. If your area gets plenty of sunlight, take advantage of it with large windows, sunrooms, balconies, gardens, and outdoor lounges.
City dwellers should account for the heat-trapping effects of concrete, and the reflected glare off of steel and glass. The height and layout of nearby buildings will also affect your light levels and the strength and direction of any wind you’re exposed to. Urban apartments might need bird deterrents and vine management. Suburban homes might struggle with lawn weeds and raccoons or foxes, while a rural homestead might have to be ready for inconvenient tree roots and larger or more aggressive wildlife.
Try to do some futureproofing for your new living space. Of course, you can’t predict what tomorrow might bring, but you can make a few educated guesses and plan accordingly. For instance, can you reasonably expect to acquire dependents in the following few years? Perhaps you’re planning on children or you might move your elderly parents in with you. Opt for a flexible home design so that you can repurpose spaces as the need arises. In the same vein, you might want to invest in multipurpose furniture and smart storage solutions.
By now you’ll have a pretty clear picture of your new home, so start estimating what it’ll cost you. If you’re looking for a rental, bookmark a few real estate platforms and start filtering the available listings. Choose a few areas, define the kind of property you’re looking for, and make note of the asking prices. Compare the value you would get for the money, e.g. the amenities, location-based perks, accessibility, etc. This will give you a realistic range of potential future rent costs so you can plan long-term.
If you would rather buy a home or build your own, you may need to talk to a bank or other lender to come up with a workable amount of money. Take into account the various transactions that will contribute to the total price, like property taxes, mortgage payments, maintenance, potential renovations, and the cost of any landscaping. If you’re building from scratch, you need to account for the costs of materials, labor, tools, and transport. You’ll also be looking at several inspections and assessments to make sure your project complies with codes and standards.
Once you have a budget in mind, start prioritizing the various features you considered in the previous steps. List them all in order of decreasing importance, then sort them into must-haves, could-negotiates, and nice-to-haves that you could give up without regret. Use this priority list to inform your choice of floor plan. Keep an open mind in terms of space distribution and use, too. For example, maybe a room was meant as a children’s playroom but you could convert it into a home office. A flexible attitude will give you more opportunities for a custom home even if you aren’t building it from the ground up.
To sum up, choosing your ideal living space entails more than picking a place close to work and coordinating the decor. You need to consider the characteristics of the area and the community, the environmental factors and the functional needs your space must fulfill. Then you have to come up with a reasonable budget and choose a layout that caters to your priorities, but that’s still flexible enough to adapt to future circumstances. All this might seem overwhelming or just dull, but these things will directly impact your long-term experience in your new space – they shape the palette of your lifestyle design.