$pent Millennial

Dear Reader, 

It is all clutter. 

This week, I got a bit of a wake-up call. It wasn’t pretty. They rarely are. 

Someone asked for photos of our apartment. And before I could text my boyfriend– wait, let me take them– he had already sent them over. 

You know how boyfriends and husbands take photos. I know, I know, – justice for men. #NotAllHusbands. Some of you are incredible. Truly, I’ve seen the work of you photographer, home-staging men. 

But many? They take photos the way kindergarteners used to take pictures of their parents. Point and click. Camera angled up. Every chin, every shadow, every imperfection fully documented. 

At least that’s how we used to take photos when I was growing up – before social media, before kids were born with smartphones stuck to their sticky hands, learning angles and lighting and filters before they can even read. (But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Anyway– those photos were sent. 

And what they revealed… wasn’t pretty. 

Not because of the angle. Not because of the lighting (Well, a little because of the angles and the lighting…)

But, mostly, because of something I hadn’t noticed before – something I don’t see as I go through my every day. 

Clutter. 

Not the dramatic, floor-to-ceiling kind. Not the kind that makes for a reality TV episode. The quieter kind. The kind that blends in. The kind that feels… normal. 

But suddenly, through the lens of someone else’s camera, it stood out everywhere. 

On the shelves– favorite books stacked beside unopened mail (guilty). In the entrway– those convenient catch-alls for grocery bags and outdoor gear. The bench that was meant to welcom guests but more often holds gym bags and jackets in rotation. Even the carefully curated mugs lining our coffee bar. 

All the little things I’ve always thought of as “cozy”. 

As intentional. 

As home. 

Yet, in those photos, under the harsh honesty of a smartphone camera, they read as something else entirely. 

Clutter. 

And that caught me off guard. 

Because I’ve always considered myself– considered us– to be above that. 

If I can speak for us Millennials for a mement, we tend to pride ourselves on being different. On being thoughtful, intentional. On choosing “less is more.” On curating spaces that feel clean, calm, and – dare I say – minimal. 

A quiet rebellion against the excess many of us grew up with. 

We don’t just have homes– we have systems. We don’t just decorate– we curate. 

Or at least, that’s the story I’ve told myself. 

Because if I’m being honest, I’ve also found myself quietly (and sometimes less quietly) judging spaces that feel too full. Too busy. Too…cluttered. The kind fo homes that look like they’re just a few years away from an episode of Hoarders. 

It’s easy to feel that way when you’re scrolling through Zillow listings or walking through open houses. 

The posts and showings run the gamut. From homes that look as if you are interrupting dinner pre-holiday prep to spaces staged to pefection. 

It becomes easy to set curated perfection as the standard everything else is judged against. And to judge– hard. 

But those photos, the perfect ones. 

Those are not life. They are not real. 

And if I am honest, they are not really how I want to live. 

I would much rather accept that our photos look a little less “magazine-ready”  and a little more “lived-in” if it means knowing that my favorite, chipped mug will be there for me to start my day. And the student-drawn art work above my desk can offer me a “hug” amidst moments of overwhelm. 

Because, the truth is– a lived in home is not a photo-ready home. 

And it’s not supposed to be. 

Because what reads as “clutter” to the unknowing eye is evidence. 

Of mornings that moved too quickly to sort the mail. 

Of routines that prioritize function over perfection. 

Of small comforts– books, mugs, bags, shoes– that support the rhythm of our days. 

Of a space that is being used, not just admired. 

So, all of this to say– 

If your home is feeling a little more lived-in than picture-perfect, a little more full than curated… I see you. 

Or maybe I don’t. 😉

Because the very best parts of our homes, our lives, are not always the ones that photograph well. 

And that’s okay. Maybe it’s the point. 

Until next week – take care & live well, 

Everett