Re-Seeking Joy (And Trusting My Own Taste Again)

I’ll never forget when a high school acquaintance once said to me, “Kristyn, I love how you’ve always had your own personal style.” At the time, I don’t think I realized just how deeply that would stick. But even now, years later, it still feels like one of the best compliments I’ve ever received.

In my teens and early twenties, I was peak me. I spent whatever disposable income I had on Broadway tickets, wandered Strand Bookstore like it was church, and proudly carried faux designer bags from Chinatown. I flirted with trends (hi, Juicy suits and Air Jordans), but I never let them lead. I followed my instincts. I dressed, decorated, and lived for myself.

Then… social media happened. And not long after, motherhood followed.

Suddenly, there were rules. Influencers decided what was chic and what was cringe. Homes had to be aesthetic. Outfits had to be “timeless.” Even joy needed to be curated. This year, while decorating for Christmas with ornaments I’ve collected and loved over time — pieces that don’t perfectly match but feel like me — I caught myself thinking: "Nothing goes together. What will people think?" (As if my family members were showing up with scorecards.)

That was the moment it all clicked.

One year postpartum, emerging from a fog, exhausted by scrolling, and craving something more analog and less performative, I realized my intention for the new year is simple: re-seek joy. Not the algorithm-approved kind; the kind that feels intuitive, personal, and slightly unruly.

So far, that’s looked like wallpapering the back of a shelf in my very outdated kitchen, thrifting an Anthropologie dress for $52, and buying bold emerald green costume earrings just because they made my heart beat faster. It’s remembering that I’m a mom, yes, but I’m also someone with taste, curiosity, creativity, and a nervous system that still lights up over color, texture, and possibility.

It turns out, joy doesn’t have to match. It just has to feel like home again — and like mine.