I’ve been watching since I got cable a few years ago, so I’ve seen a lot of episodes. It always starts out pretty much the same. People don’t know why their home isn’t selling. So, the cameras go inside.
A scene of crazy clutter, unfinished projects, and decorating from the early 90′s is the usual.
Sabrina goes in and the first thing she tells them is to get rid of the clutter. Then she de-personalizes and modernizes.
So when it came time to put my condo on the market I thought it would be no sweat.
I can’t stand clutter, so that wasn’t a problem. I moved the magazines I usually keep in the bathroom to a respectable spot on the coffee table and put the garbage can under the sink. All the photos of family and friends went in boxes and I re-organized my closets, just in case people peek.
And I thought I was done.
I was ready for the realtor to come in and tell me there wasn’t anything to do. I’d say, “Yeah, I watch a lot of HGTV.”
That wasn’t exactly how it happened.
My realtor is also a stager and she had her own ideas about how to set up my condo. She wanted to go for the model home look.
I thought mine already looked like a model home.
Apparently, I was wrong.
She brought in her own staging things to use. Some of it I loved right away. The stools were perfect for the breakfast bar and her idea to put my dining room table on an angle, genius.
I told her she was the expert and I trusted her, so I’d let her do what she thought was best.
And then she brought out a basket of fake fruit.
I almost stopped breathing. Plastic fruit in my house. The only place that belongs is in the pretend kitchens of pre-school and kindergarten classrooms. I think it’s tacky and weird. Not to mention the bad feng shui.
My face must’ve given me away because she told me that if I wasn’t comfortable with something, we didn’t have to use it.
I thought about it for a second, while she talked about color and bringing the eye around. She knew what she was doing. And this wasn’t about me.
I took a deep breath and told her it was fine.
I can live with fake fruit if that’s what it takes to sell my place.
But it is a strange feeling to live in a place that is set up for someblody else. A place that looks good in pictures and during showings, but doesn’t feel like home anymore.
And everyday when I walk into the kitchen and look at those plastic apples I have to remind myself, This isn’t about you!
Because it’s not, anymore.
Have you ever sold a home? How do you let go of something being yours? Do you ever struggle with giving up control over how things should be?