Home Improvement = Therapy

New homeowner Rebecca Martin reflects on the unexpected side effects of home improvement. 

Last year, when my husband and I moved into our new home, I spent the spring and summer just figuring out what grew on our suburban corner lot. Turns out, quite a few plants—many of which were in bad health or the wrong spot. So this spring, I have been tackling a number of outdoor chores, from painting the front door to uprooting bushes and trees.  

I’m aiming for improved curb appeal, but I didn't expect to discover some salutary effects on my mental health. 

Paintbrush Pedagogy 

It's been a long time since I put my mind to learning something new. Due to depression, I was in survival mode for a long time in my young adult life. Survival mode looks at a challenge and says "Nope, not today" or "There's no way I can do that." But in the process of painting the front door, preparing planters, shopping for flowers, and uprooting bushes, I had to admit that there was a lot I didn't know—but I wanted to learn.   

So I asked questions. I did research. I consulted with friends (mostly Margaret Rose Realy, Obl. OSB, an incredible gardener and mentor).   

I let trial and error actually teach me, instead of getting frustrated at the first failed attempt. Looking at you, plastic pots that cracked when I tried to drill holes into you.  

I earned the thrill of improving, and I gave myself the freedom of saying "good enough." The paint around the front door handle has chipped twice and at this point I have just accepted that it will be that way. 

Neighborly Knowledge  

The neighborhood we moved into has a great mix of newcomers and old-timers, young families and retirees. For the first year, we only knew the neighbors behind us (because he does lawn care) and the next-door neighbor (because Frank knows literally everyone). Since both my husband and I work from home, we are inside a lot, and I found myself feeling somewhat isolated.  

This year, being out and about in the front yard in the cooler hours of the day has led to light conversations with folks from all up and down the street as they walk by on their periodic constitutionals. The new planters or garage door paint are easy sources of friendly, welcoming conversation—and let's be real, the compliments are great for this Words of Affirmation receiver.   

Also, I am bonding with the neighbors down the street over their very helpful tool collection, causing me to now covet my own electric screwdriver. 

The Fun Kind of Exercise  

I know I need to exercise. I know, but most days I just don't care enough to get out and walk or go to the gym, or even do an exercise video in the privacy of my living room. Thanks, depression and stress! But GUESS WHAT.   

Landscaping and home improvement is totally exercise.   

Want to know how many steps I got the night some friends helped me take out the ugly bushes? Over 8K just in our front lawn, not to mention all the squats and resistance training from using my baby chainsaw to lop off and bag up branches!   

That's the kind of exercise I can get behind for my physical health, because it keeps my mind happy—I'm doing something useful and beautiful, I see immediate concrete results, and I'm tricking myself into doing a thing I should do by doing a thing I want to do. 

Swapping Gender Roles (The Right Way)  

Last but not least, all my landscaping/gardening/home improvement projects have been great for shifting the way I think about some things in my marriage. I grew up with my dad managing most of the outdoor work, and so it's firmly labeled in my head as a guy thing. But for my husband, this stuff ends up being a stressor on the to-do list. Yet it's fun for me!   

So instead of sitting around moaning or feeling embittered that he doesn't handle things for me, I've allowed myself to enjoy picking up tasks that aren't "girl things" in my head. I'm unabashedly feminine and gosh darn I like my little baby chainsaw! It's cathartic to cut down bushes! I love going to the hardware store and looking at mulch! My husband is just as much a man and the head of the household even if I'm the one out filling ten bags of dying boxwood branches. (By the fifth, I was learning resilience more than flexibility, but whatever.)  

Click to tweet:
Sometimes we find healing in the oddest of places. #CatholicMom

I could go on, but the long and the short of it is that sometimes we find healing in the oddest of places. Maybe you should try planting a garden less for the organic vegetables, and more for your own sanity; or maybe you should keep an eye out for unexpected tools in your own mental health toolkit. 

Copyright 2023 Rebecca W. Martin
Images: (top) Canva; all others copyright 2023 Rebecca W. Martin, all rights reserved.