A Room of One’s Own

“Women have sat indoors all these millions of years, so that by this time the very walls are permeated by their creative force, which has, indeed, so overcharged the capacity of bricks and mortar that it must needs harness itself to pens and brushes and business and politics.”

― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

It baffles me how 96 years later, Woolf’s commentary on societal structures and what women need for proper self-expression remains relevant. We must hold onto our autonomy and make our voices heard by those who wish to silence it.

While the world is more openminded towards women’s endeavors today, we still face harsh critiques and tackle the pressure of society’s high standards. It feels as though we must jump through capitalistic hoops to prove our worth, as if it is not ever present. It is not about acquiring this “room of one’s own” but having the courage to define yourself outside of anyone or anything else.

In today’s society, where most women are finally in ownership of their lives, I believe the concept of having a room of one’s own still stands strong. Financial freedom feels harder to gain, but a private space to breathe and just be is truly a transformative privilege. It is here where we can learn to let down the facade and pour into ourselves.

Take time for yourself and take up space. Reflect. Create something of value no matter the medium. Find freedom in intellectualism. Find freedom in your own presence.

In my room, I learned to love the silence, the mundane. Sometimes you need to feel bored to focus on the little blessings, like how I am surrounded by an endless surge of love.

There are few things better than the warm, moist air blowing through my open window. I love how it sticks to my skin and ruffles the pages of my books. Some days I have the privilege of sharing it with a loved one- our backs on the hard floor as we let the breeze carry the smoke from our joint out of the aperture. My cat will always claim the best patch of sunlight. It is blissful. It is here that I find myself and ground into my surroundings.

In my room, I gave myself permission to be open to new things- whether it be new hobbies I am not great at but simply enjoy, or sharing my heart and falling in love. I have come a long way and no longer feel so scared to escape my comfort zone.

As time passes, I began to love myself through the rough patches. If all I can do is meet myself with kindness, that is enough. Maybe some amount of sadness restores the balance of life’s ebbs and flows; it reminds me of the gratitude I keep in my heart.

In this space I learned my favorite things- art on my walls, kind notes to myself, writing in the sun, dancing, crying, trying new crafts, and curating a yoga practice to make my worries seem less daunting.

This room of my own is truly, with the most sincerity in my heart, one of my favorite things of my twenties. I try not to look ahead to the day when I will part with it, as it brings about a premature mourning.

It is this space that allows for great reflection and contemplation. I see how healing, learning, immense frustration, and an even greater amount of love has led me to this moment. It is here that I became a woman.

To wake and breathe is the greatest blessing. Let me not take it for granted.