A bedroom is an identity, a scripture, a record of wanton sadness and love. Its walls feel safe, and the bed is a shield from desolation, a home to the melancholic and thoughtful. Under covers, we can be alone, and alone is safe. Subconsciously throughout our early lives we hold on to the things that remind us of the past, that trace memories of who we are, the touchstones of a young life. I’ve noticed that the young women in my life are all akin to grasp at physical remembrances of heavy-hearted and harrowing moments. Sometimes we look to the sad to recall why we love what we love. We need old love letters that break our hearts each time we read them, we need photos of friends that vanished, and we need books inscribed with warmth and ardor. We are creatures of habit; yet, we desire nothing more than to move on from the things we have done. Our rooms tell a story of how we think; something shared solely with ourselves and those that we love. I find myself hesitant to welcome people I don’t know very well into my room, as if somehow I’m telling them all of my secrets. They’re laid out on the walls, these pieces of me, a story of my sentience, and the eyes that see them can’t be accidental. I always wonder if other girls feel this extreme attachment. Perhaps as I was lonely for so long, I took to the solace found within these walls to attach my existence to a tangible object, a reminder that I was really there. This seems sad, but it wasn’t. It was my way of fastening to something when I had no interest in the people around me and I was sad. It was an outlet, a creative core, and I used it as such. –Blakey Bessire



We put on masks when we roam the world, sometimes unconsciously, but when I’m back in my room all masks are off. This is where I am truly, fully and unapologetically myself. I would blast my favorite songs with no thought whatsoever to who may be listening, cry if I have to, dance if I want to. Upon entering my room, all of me is written on the walls. –Yi Peng

Things have been hectic lately. Whether it’s working, catching up with close friends, shooting short films, I’m constantly doing something. During the day I feel like I have little time to breath and just have some good old fashion “me” time. Although I love having a busy schedule, parties of one are my deep down favorite. That being said, existing in my bedroom is the only time I have to myself. It’s not the cleanest, most organized, or prettiest thing, but I don’t care. I love my cocoon, and would lose my mind without the confines of it. I love to travel and be on the road, but there is nothing I love more than the feeling of my own bed. –Tessa Ehrman



Very simply, my room is my safe space. I happened to take this picture on a good day. This is the best my room has looked in 6 or 7 months. The floor is typically covered with clothes, hangers, old mail, etc. Underneath my comforter is a literal bag of trash I hastily stashed so you readers wouldn’t think I’m a complete slob (although you wouldn’t be wrong in assuming so). I’ve lived a pretty interesting life and have remnants of my life in Massachusetts and life in my home state of California on the walls. I have old posters and artwork made by my friends. On my dresser, I have what I like to call “my alter.” It’s comprised of glitter, a rosary, candles, pictures, beer and wine bottles, money, and little knickknacks that make me happy. This is where I like to do a lot of my thinking, praying, and magic (read: Powerful Manifestation). Although my room is small, I’ve found space for a bed, a bookcase, a couch, an ottoman that turns out into a pullout bed, and several nightstands. When I do have people over, I like to make sure everyone can feel cozy in my room and have enough space to be comfortable. My favorite part of my room is my bed (obvi) because it’s super comfy and I can see out of my window and see everything in my room. At the end of the day, it makes me feel peaceful. It’s taken me years and a lot of negotiating with my family about boundaries to create this space where I feel comfortable and rested. For those of you who are seeking a space (especially one in your own home) where you can feel like you can let your guard down, sometimes it doesn’t happen over night. Hang in there and PLEASE keep working to create a place for yourself that reflects who you are. Sometimes it may not seem like it, but everyone deserves the chance –or at least the space– to be exactly who they want to be, even you. –Simone Hull



July 20, 2015