By Kevin Tran
You might not realize it, but your room can tell a lot about you. The way your things are placed, the mess you leave behind or whether your bed is made all say something.
I didn’t think much about it at first, until I noticed that the way my bed looked always followed a pattern. Usually, when I’m doing fine, my bed is always made. However, when I wake up late for school, my bed looks like it has been hit by a tornado: pillows on the floor, blankets all messed up and everything out of place.
It wasn’t just my bed either, my desk would get really messy when I was stressed. Such as studying for a big test that was tomorrow, papers everywhere and barely enough space to think.
That’s when I realized something: My room reflects my mental state. When I’m overwhelmed, it shows. When I’m doing good, it shows. It’s like a silent way my brain lets everything out.
On days I don’t feel motivated, I don’t bother picking things up for myself. My trash builds up and random stuff I swore I’d clean just sits there untouched. It’s like the environment matches the mess going on inside my head; the more I ignore it, the worse it gets.
I remember one day when I had three tests all on the same day. The night before, I was absolutely stressed. I just sat there on my desk, surrounded by notes on different subjects, not even knowing where to start. Every time I looked at my desk, I got a headache. It was like the mess in front of me made the chaos in my head worse.
So, I decided to focus on just one subject at a time. Slowly, the load of notes on my desk started to shrink. With less clutter in front of me, my brain felt clearer, too.
Cleaning my space—just a little—makes a difference. Even organizing a few things makes me feel like I have some control again. My room might not always be perfect, but now I pay attention. A clean room won’t fix everything, but it’s a good place to start.
And it’s not just the big stuff like my bed or desk—sometimes it’s the little things too. Even my nightstand gives it away.
On a good day, there’s just a water bottle, maybe a book, and my phone charger. But on bad days, it starts piling up. Empty snack wrappers, tissues and cups, I forgot to take to the kitchen—it becomes a mini collection of how much I’ve been neglecting myself. It’s a small corner, but it holds a lot of signs.
Over time, I’ve learned that the mess isn’t something to feel guilty about. It’s just a sign. And instead of ignoring it, I’ve started listening to it.
Because taking care of my space means taking care of myself, too.
