Forget Therapy I've Got a Sledgehammer

In love and demo, the walls always come down

There’s something about the noise, the bad music blaring from a half-broken speaker, and the sawdust in the air that makes me feel more alive than any yoga retreat or green juice ever could. Demo day does things to me I can’t explain. I must’ve been a master architect in the Roman Empire, because nothing else in life gets me this unreasonably excited. Candlelight dinners? For sure.

But hand me a wall to tear down and I’ll be home before dessert.

And here’s the truth: I know I shouldn’t always start another project. Logic tells me to stop. Wait. Rest. But logic has never stood a chance against the itch to create.

Because a project isn’t just drywall and sawdust, it’s potential. It’s the dream of what could exist if you’re willing to do the work. And love is no different. The attraction might be the spark, the intoxicating high of “what if” but that fades if no one sticks around to continue the project.

The people closest to me get it. They know the fastest way to my heart is to build something. Together. Not just the fun, messy part of tearing it all down, but the long haul of shaping it into something worth keeping. God, I love the process. Most people can’t stomach the long play. I live for it. Because I know the ending is always worth the dust.

I mean really…new love and committed love are the same project. Different phases, same blueprint. Demo is exciting, but commitment is where the real design takes shape.

And while yes, that sounds cliché, here’s the breakdown:

1. Every House, Every Relationship = A Gut Reno

Don’t romanticize it. Nobody buys a house thinking, “Oh joy, can’t wait to replace the cracked foundation!” Same with relationships. We fall hard for the pretty porch, not the busted pipes hiding underneath.

But here’s the truth: every relationship exposes the parts of you that are unrenovated. Your partner becomes that rigid inspector pointing out where you’ve cut corners, even if you don’t know it. You think you’re fighting about dishes, or dinner, or who left the laundry in the dryer but you’re really fighting about your chidhood trauma.

And as I always say to my therapist: it was never about the tofu.

And trust me, I’m tired of these self lessons. Really I am. I’ll look at other people’s marriages and think, damn, they’re not having to “learn” anything right now. They’re just coasting, doing brunch, posting vacation photos, living in their version of a house with no leaks.

But then I shift perspective.

I get to figure this out.
I get to do it right this time.
I get to commit to a loving, compassionate relationship. One that doesn’t just look good on the outside but is wicked solid underneath.

Because that’s the difference between a flip and a forever home. One is just for show. The other is built to last.

2. Maintenance = Love in Action

Demo is sexy. Instagram loves a before-and-after. But the part no one wants to do? Maintenance.

The boring, unglamorous stuff: cleaning gutters, resealing grout, battling those damn ants, swapping HVAC filters. Nobody posts that on Pinterest, but skip it long enough and the whole thing caves.

Same with love. Maintenance is the text in the middle of the day. It’s staying curious instead of defensive. It’s the small, unphotogenic acts that keep things running. Couples who don’t “do maintenance” become like abandoned houses. So shiny in old photos, collapsing in real time.

If you want the house or the love to last, you don’t wait for the roof to leak before you care.

3. Commit (Young Pueblo Said It Better)

I just finished Yung Pueblo’s How to Love Better, and it put words to what I’ve been hearing in every conversation with women lately. We talk. We analyze. We swap horror stories and hope. And the theme is always the same:

Show. Up.

Not halfway. Not just when you’re in the mood. Not when the dust settles. Every day. Show up when it’s inconvenient. Show up when you’re wrong. Show up when it would be easier to scroll your way out of intimacy.

Because if you don’t, your relationship turns into a half-reno: walls knocked down, chaos everywhere, but nobody ever finishes the job.
And then there’s nothing left to do but sell the house.

So in the end…there’s beauty in the demo.

I’ve never met an old house I didn’t love more than a brand-new spec. Same with people. Give me someone with history, layers, scars, and stories over a cookie-cutter soul any day. I’d actually vomit if I had to live in a beige-on-beige, no-character build or worst, date one.

And maybe that’s the point. There’s beauty in the messy.

Demo is where you decide how far you want to go. What to rip out. What to keep. What kind of world you want to create together.

So find a partner who wants to build. And if you already have one? Hell yeah! I’m cheering you on.

As for me? I can’t wait to meet mine.

XX- Jen

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