In case you’ve been wondering, “Whatever happened to Leah’s bathroom?” here’s what it looked like in the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day.

The drywall, floor, toilet, vanity and shower have all been installed and I was tasked with prepping and painting the walls. Uneven seams, where the new drywall met the old; giant gaps between the drywall and the ceiling; weird lumps where old nail holes and other damage had been filled and refilled – I tackled it all with my mud and trowel and countless sheets of sandpaper. I worked with my window open on the coldest day of the year and kept my bed covered in a tarp, so it stayed slightly less gritty than the rest of the room. I was determined these walls would be flawless and began fantasizing about repairing and repainting the rest of my home in 2023, now that I knew what I was doing and had the tools to do it.

If only determination and hard work were enough.

Once I got primer and paint on the walls, every seam and mud lump reappeared. Last night, I rang in the new year cursing my way through a second coat of paint, cringing at my imperfect little bathroom walls. I thought of the story people like to share about the Japanese art of putting broken pottery back together with gold, making it both strong and beautiful, and began to laugh. Such an impractical illustration for 99.9% of life. I’d need Ft. Knox to put this room back together again and then it would be nothing but gaudy.

There was a moment when I considered going back to mudding and sanding, resuming my quest for walls that showed no sign of trauma, but decided I’d done my best and this was the result. So, I opted for a shift in perspective instead.

Because I saw this bathroom stripped down to its studs and I’ve been a helping hand as this room was rebuilt, I can tell you exactly what’s behind each imperfection. That’s where the plumbing had to be rerouted and that’s where the wall was reinforced. That’s the piece of drywall my oldest son helped wrestle into place and that’s the corner of the room we discovered isn’t square! But now water flows through the pipes and the light comes on when the switch is flipped. The flaws may not be lined with gold, but I can say without exaggeration that all the progress on this bathroom is priceless.

As I continue to wrestle with my own scars, slathered thick with mud and paint, I will use this rebuilt bathroom as a reminder to look at myself differently in 2023. No more time wasted on trying to make it look like nothing ever happened to me. My imperfections are my story. I was stripped down to my studs and rebuilt myself the best I knew how. Life flows through me and the light is on inside me. I think I’m ready for this new year.