“I feel like I can breathe again.” She said.

By Rachel Schemmerling|Timeless Living Designs

Have you ever walked into a room that once brought you joy—maybe your living room, or even your bedroom—and felt a strange disconnect? Like something had shifted, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it? This is how my client, Marianne, described her home when she first reached out to me.

She had just entered a new season of life. Her youngest had gone off to college, the house had quieted, and for the first time in years, she had space to hear her own thoughts. But what she heard wasn’t peace—it was noise. Visual noise. Emotional noise. Clutter that had built up over years of busyness and caretaking. She looked around and said, “This place doesn’t feel like me anymore.”

When I met Marianne, she was in yoga pants and a soft linen tunic, barefoot in her kitchen, which was filled with afternoon sun but somehow still felt dim. She laughed nervously and said, “I think I’m ready to come back to myself.” That was the beginning.

We didn’t start with a paint color or a new rug. We started with tea. We sat down, just the two of us, and talked. About who she was before life got so full, what she loved but hadn’t made space for, what she dreamed of for this next chapter. She told me about her love for quiet mornings, antique markets, the way the light dances on the lake when she visits her sister in Vermont. She spoke like someone remembering a language she used to be fluent in.

From there, we slowly began to clear the noise. Not by tossing everything out, but by listening. To what needed to go, what could stay, and what beauty was waiting to be invited back in. A forgotten vase from her grandmother became the centerpiece on her dining table. We swapped out bulky furniture for softer lines, added textures that felt like exhaling, brought in pieces that told her story.

The transformation wasn’t overnight. It was a quiet, unfolding process. But the day I returned for the final walkthrough, something was different. Marianne greeted me but this time with a glow that matched the softened light in her now-tranquil living room.

She said, “I feel like I can breathe again. I didn’t know how much I needed this. Not just a new space—but a new way of being in it.”

That’s what this work is really about.

It’s not just design. It’s remembering. Reclaiming. Returning.

And if you’ve ever looked around and felt like your space doesn’t reflect you anymore, I want you to know: you’re not alone. Your home can hold you in the same way you hold everyone else. And sometimes, with a little care, it can lead you back to yourself.