Wave #12: Making Space for Unconditional Connection
And how perfectionism has kept me from inviting people over
“Qué Onda” is a Spanish phrase that translates to “what’s the wave” and is commonly used as a casual greeting meaning “what’s up?” It’s a bi-monthly publication packed with personal essays, guest chats, and curated findings
I remember the first thing that furnished my parents’ new house when I was a kid: a pinkish-red pull-out couch from the local thrift store.
Back then, I couldn’t have cared less about how peculiar the color was. All I knew was that it felt like a grand event to get turn it into a bed. I looked forward to the days when my parents would let my brother and I lay on the couch-turned-bed, watch a movie, and indulge in popcorn doused with Valentina sauce (iykyk). That pull-out couch was a vibe. It represented fun and freedom and was everything my little kid heart could dream of.
I grew up feeling the magic of our home.
Our house smelled like Pine-Sol, sounded like Bronco, Monica Naranjo, and 90’s Shakira, and tasted like fresh flour tortillas. I observed from an early age my parents’ resourcefulness as they filled our space with secondhand items they lovingly restored. They could bring anything to back to life, it seemed, be it with a new shade of paint or a deep clean.
The house was filled with music, caged parakeets chirping in the kitchen, or the boisterous laughter of relatives as they chatted around the dining room table. It was also visually noisy, with folkloric decor that hung on the walls that transitioned over the years from olive green to citrus yellow to mocha brown.
My home felt alive.
When I started visiting friends’ homes in my teens, I began to recognize how mine was different. It was then that “different” seemed synonymous with “not cool” or “not enough.” Even though our house was always spotless and filled with love and care, the cleanliness and warmth were overshadowed by the sudden feeling of inadequacy. I could only see that our home wasn’t trendy, new, or spacious like theirs. The cozy, ever-evolving, magical home I grew up in no longer felt enough, and I rarely invited friends over because of it. (Tragic, I know)
As the years passed, I began to feel this “not enoughness” seep into other facets of my life. From my teens until recently, I fell into the trap of believing that my home—and by extension, the core of who I am—was not enough. It’s only recently that I’ve actively decided to rid myself of those beliefs and return to the joy I felt as a kid.
I had come to believe that a clean, perfectly staged home was a marker of someone who has it all figured out—a perception exacerbated by social media. Many things have kept me from inviting people over over the years, like clutter, the size or location of my home, or the state of my furnishings.
Earlier this month, as I was furnishing my new place, that same feeling of “not enoughness” started to creep in. I began to feel unworthy of having people come over because my new home isn’t yet to my liking. Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of chances to challenge those thoughts. My friend, Steph, who graciously offered to accompany me to IKEA to help me envision decorating the space after I confessed I was overwhelmed. Or my dear friend, Moni, who was perfectly fine sleeping over even though her side of the bed didn’t have a nightstand. It’s been healing to have them and other loved ones visit, despite my feelings of incompleteness.
Like Steph and Moni, my close ones have shown me that we can show up for others without having it all together. The more I think about it, the more that seems like the only way!
Living Beautifully
My mom lived by the motto: vive bonito, live beautifully. No matter the stage of our lives, she made it her mission to live that motto.
As I reflect on that, I recognize that living beautifully is less about the aesthetics and more about how something makes us feel.
To live beautifully means affirming our worth even when we’re a work in progress. It’s remembering that las casas toman tiempo para madurar. Our homes, like us— and, let’s face it, everything in life— take time to mature. Making time to celebrate our efforts up until this point and enjoying what is here now is one of the best ways to validate our efforts and journey so far.
I know firsthand that revealing ourselves and our homes, especially in their imperfect stages, can be a vulnerable act. It may take a few meaningful experiences for us to believe that we are indeed worthy of love, connection, and acceptance even when we’re a mess, under construction, or not yet where we want to be—both with our homes and in our lives. But I’ve gotten enough evidence this year, not just with my home but with my grief, that we are in fact worthy and enough regardless of our life circumstances.
Ultimately, my mom’s philosophy of living beautifully isn’t about chasing perfection but about accepting who we are and what is here now. The more we accept ourselves unconditionally, the easier it becomes to show our true selves to others. In turn, this makes it easier to see who is truly for us and who isn’t. Releasing perfection invites true connection.
Releasing perfection doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t try. If you were to come over, I would still make an effort to make my place as cute and welcoming as possible. But right now, I might hand you a mismatched cup or invite you to sit in a foldable chair. If I can’t offer you a freshly baked treat, I may offer you a quesadilla, or at the very least, some fresh water. This isn’t forever, but that’s how it is for now.
But the point is, I’ll make an effort for you to feel my love and care regardless of the stage I find myself in. I’m making a conscious effort to no longer allow imperfect circumstances to get in the way of connection.
I hope you can give yourself that same permission.
May you release the need for perfect conditions. May they lead to more wholesome connections.
Con amor (with love),
Flor
Some highlights…
Remembering that we’re just a speck! This artist's rendition of the NGC 1232 galaxy, similar to the Milky Way, gave me some much-needed perspective. Feeling insignificant amidst the stars always inspires me, reminding me that we’re part of a greater whole. (Sigh) Awe is such a powerful resource in times of hardship!
The resilience and cultural significance of bread- This article traces the evolution of wheat from ancient times to its pivotal role in Palestinian culture and the impact of colonialism.
Can’t wait to watch this fun movie with friends this weekend— have you seen?
Something about burning incense makes my mornings feel luxurious and zen. The days, I’ve been burning these ones. I’m curious about these smokeless versions. I’ve also tried these ones and they’re delightful. They’d make good gifts, in my humble opinion.
Your words and posts always come at the right time and deeply resonate with me. You are so powerful with your words!!!