I bought a house. A great house with great bones. With incredible history and a great deal of “mojo”. It was once owned by an old friend and her husband. In fact, they started their family of three in this house 10 years ago. I have to say, knowing this fact made the house that much more attractive for some reason. Perhaps it was in knowing that there was a good amount of joy and memories made behind that front door by someone I know. Maybe it was the fact that I knew this couple took impeccable care of the house and knew its history and maintenance. Not sure but whatever the reason, I found it especially appealing. So in I jumped with both feet and I haven’t looked back.
The exterior had an enormous flaw that I couldn’t help but notice. Here was this beautiful circular brick entry way with very detailed, very well cared for, wrought iron railings that wrapped the steps. Absolutely beautiful and such character in the entryway. But instead of leaving well enough alone, the prior owners (not my friends) added full door length shutters, teeny tiny exterior lights, an awning and a bright silver kick plate and hardware. It was too much. Like someone took the Mona Lisa and decided she needed a low v-neck, some dangly earrings and a perm. Less really is more sometimes and in this case, it’s definitely the right way to go.
A few weeks ago, Justin helped to remove the black plastic monstrous shutters. Instant face lift! We have both wanted to rip those fuckers off since day one and over a few bottles of beer, it was finally time. I also love that Justin did it. Made it feel like it was ours in a way and not just mine. Back to the door dilemma. I decided it was time to paint the very dull black, sun bleached door a more distinct color. I should preface this by saying that the house has gone uninhabited and without a caretaker for nearly three years before yours truly. The projects are maintenance, maintenance and more maintenance. I’ve spent more hours than I can count redoing floors, painting cabinetry, having the plumbing replaced, cleaning, and painting 7 out of the 10 areas of the house from top to bottom. You name it, I’ve done it. I still have plenty more to accomplish and have been attacking things a little at a time. The exterior needs a ridiculous amount of work getting the yard back into presentable shape, pressure washing, pruning, shaping, caring. The list continues. But this front door was really bugging the shit out of me.
Honestly, I should have been doing more yard work but I just couldn’t stop obsessing about getting this door painted. So I started thinking about painting the door a nice green color to contrast the dark red brick, white trim and black iron work. That was my first inclination. Yes, it will be green. I knew the shade, not too much blue, not too much yellow, mellow but not Forest green. Just a nice subtle, won’t compete with the house but will feel inviting, kinda green. Yep, Green. But then the strangest thing happened. I began second guessing my gut instinct. Wha? Who am I and what did I do with Iris? I don’t second guess my gut. That’s why it’s my gut and no one else’s. Fuck. This one had me perplexed.
Instead of going with the initial thought, I painstakingly started to assess colors, took photos of the front entry and started photoshopping the fuck out of them. Even downloaded the Benjamin Moore color palette into Photoshop. I tried different colors. I tried painting the coffered inset paneling a contrasting color. I must have virtually repainted that door a hundred times. And still, no answer. This past weekend I got in the car, went to the paint store, picked out 10 different color chips and closed my eyes, not one of them was green. They were all shades of beige. The one my finger landed on was going to be the color. Sure enough I come home with a quart of something called Tea Stained. It’s a good thing they didn’t have me name the color or it would have gotten something along the lines of “camel shit” or perhaps just “blegh”. Yeah, it was just that exciting. But I convinced myself that this lovely shade of newborn baby shit was my destiny. My doors’ destiny was to be Tea Stained and nothing else.
So I primed, I sanded, I filled holes, I removed hardware and I got that door ready for its money shot. On went the first coat, then the second and a final third coat for good measure. I stood back to look at my handy-work and what I saw was something that left me empty. How in the world could I call this “my” door? This wasn’t my door. This belongs to someone else. Someone who knows little about what they want or need or feel. That’s not me. Or is it? Here I was standing at a door that by all accounts is my future. Behind this door is my life. A new life with my kids and Justin and ME. It’s my door. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t swallow this color. I couldn’t do it.
After all this time and this incredible journey of self discovery that I’ve been on over the last 2 years, I still doubt my voice. I still doubt that what I feel and the way that I think is precisely the way it’s supposed to be. I still doubt that I’m okay. That my life is good. That I am deserving of something more than Tea Stained. I realized I doubted my love of green. I realized in that moment, right there in the street, that no matter how many times I had painted that door, no matter if I had picked a glorious red or a pop of purple, it wouldn’t have been my door anymore than it was my door before I lived here. It stood there as a reminder that I didn’t have a voice…but that wasn’t true. I do have a voice and it keep saying green. Fucking green!
Today I went back to the hardware store where they know me by name. Literally. I’ve become the crazy paint lady. Hey, you buy 19 gallons of paint from someone (to repaint the entire house, not just a door) and they remember you for a while. I had them mix up the exact shade of green that I imagined. I could have done a million and one things this morning but instead I stood at my door and painted. First coat, second coat and a third just for safe measure. I removed the hardware and faux finished it in a nice black/bronze color and got rid of all the nasty silver shit.
It finally feels like mine. The entrance to my house. The entrance to my life. A reminder that it’s much more than just a front door. A reminder that the choice is mine and the choice that is mine is the right choice for me. It might not be for anyone else but it is for me. I can’t wait to see what happens behind this green door. Got a feeling it’s gonna be good.
