09/30/2025
My mother-in-law walked through my living room last week and said my home looks like a "starter apartment." I'm 47, divorced, and apparently living like a college student because I sold everything decent to pay the lawyer who couldn't even get me alimony.
I'd been staring at these old shutters in my garage for months, too broke to hire someone, too proud to ask for help. That afternoon, still burning from her comment, I dragged them inside and decided I'd either create something beautiful or have a spectacular breakdown trying.
I started with yard sale shelves and leftover paint, my hands shaking from either caffeine or pure desperation. When I needed brackets, I found a woodworker on the Tedooo app selling extras from his workshop cleanout for practically nothing. He even threw in screws because, as he put it, "we've all been there."
By evening, something magical was happening. Each crooked shelf somehow looked intentional, each shutter frame told a story. I posted a picture in my little Tedooo shop where I've been selling refinished frames to make ends meet, and suddenly women were messaging me asking if I could make one for them too.
Last night, arranging my books on those shelves, I realized something. My mother-in-law was wrong. This isn't a starter apartment. This is a comeback story, one imperfect shelf at a time.