The Hardest Part of This Renovation Had Nothing to Do with the House

Hi GoodHuman,

We’re here. Barely.

Emotionally, I feel drained—worn down by the stress, the overwhelm, the constant troubleshooting, and the frustration that comes with trying to build something meaningful while navigating disappointment after disappointment. For the past six weeks, this home renovation has felt less like progress and more like a standoff—with our contractor, with timelines, with expectations.

When we started this process, I approached it like a grown ass GoodHuman—ready to lead, ready to get shit done, and ready to hire a contractor to help us create a home we love. But what I didn’t expect was how often I’d feel dismissed, overlooked, or talked down to. Being repeatedly referred to as a side note in conversations—hearing things like “your husband and I talked”—made it clear I wasn’t being seen as an equal voice in a project I’ve poured my sleep, sanity, and (sooo many) tears into. 

My go-to stress tools have been tested more than ever lately. I’ve leaned hard into grounding practices—walks, meditation, naps, tuning into my 5 senses—just to keep my mind from spiraling. Some days, the only "win" I can count is simply making it through.

On one particularly tough day, I hit a wall.

My autopilot kicked in, and I found myself slipping into old habits—I binged. I had been four months binge-free, but a series of WTF moments pushed me past my limit. It was a wake-up call. A clear sign that my mind was overwhelmed and needed care, not criticism. So here’s my reminder to myself—and maybe to you too: progress, not perfection. PNP, always. May 2nd, 2025 is my new date ❤️ and it's okay. 

That moment sparked a shift in my internal dialogue.

What am I actually prioritizing right now? 

It hit me just how much mental space I’ve been giving to things—colors, finishes, materials. I love beautiful spaces, and we’ve worked hard to create one. But this renovation has pulled me dangerously close to a mindset I thought I’d let go of to escape the golden handcuffs I’d put on myself, living in my dad’s condo for 10 years, believing that I had to compromise my life to live in a nice place.

I started sacrificing my joy and presence to keep up with a process that felt increasingly out of my control.

But here’s what I’m reminding myself now: I still have a choice.

I can’t control how someone else shows up. But I can control how I respond. I can choose to protect the energy, the intention, and the heart we’re pouring into this home.

I can reclaim the excitement I felt when we first started this journey. Because this house was never about the finishes

—it was about creating space to live, to breathe, to grow. A space that reflects us.. and who we are Becoming.

So as we enter the final stretch of this process, I’m choosing to shift my focus. Yes, there are still decisions to be made. And yes, things will still go wrong. But I’m grounding myself in the moments that matter—in the people who show up with integrity, in the small acts of kindness, in the belief that everything is working out the way it’s meant to.

If you’re feeling the weight of your own process, I hope this gives you a little space to breathe. Maybe even a little hope that something better is being built behind the scenes—even if it’s messy right now.. (like really fucking messy.)

Thank you for being here. Truly. If you’ve read this far, I hope you know how much it means to have your support and how much it means to have you share your time with me. And soon—so soon—I’ll be writing to you from our new home. Maybe sitting on the floor. Probably surrounded by dust. But full of heart, and ready for this new chapter.

With love and exhaustion,
Taryn