Home » dverse » I Had a Room of My Own, Once

I Had a Room of My Own, Once

I had a room of my own, once

We officially called it my office

It was important to me to have my own space

Separate from mothering and wifing

Where I could be a woman

Free to create ~ something


I’d holler down below, to

Tell him his music was too loud

But it was just an excuse to say

“Hey, how’s it going down there?”

To let him know that I was still there

Should he want to interrupt me


I had a room of my own, once

A place to call mine, not shared

And now that he’s gone

I no longer want nor need it

It’s purpose has lost its appeal

Besides, I’ve taken over his chair


Sometimes choices are made for us

And our needs and wants change accordingly

We adapt, we learn, we grow

And now that I am in charge of my destiny

That room of my own, once needed

Now feels more like a place where I hid


Every now and again, dVerse calls me to participate.Β  This week’s host is Laura Bloomsbury who asked us to “Make Some Room”.





146 thoughts on “I Had a Room of My Own, Once

    • Dear Rochelle,

      So very glad you stopped by and shared your thoughts… (You know when you think… I dunno… and then some wonderful writer comes in and says; Yeah?)

      Shalom and lotsa appreciative love,


      Liked by 1 person

        • Thank you so much, Louise.
          To think I was going to trash it. What do I know?
          This means so much to me. Every time I doubt myself, I hold my breath and press “publish”, not expecting anything.
          Yes, there is sadness and acceptance but I hope you feel some of the hope, too.


  1. Nothing seems to be permanent; some relationships and marriages last over 70 years, others disintegrate in 70 days, or 70 minutes, I enjoyed the bittersweet ride and read and applaud the hope at its closing.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Glenn. Only thing that is certain is uncertainty… I feel ours would have gone on for a good many more years but life and death and all that.
      Glad you felt the hope at the end.


  2. That is so descriptive, so realistic, I laughed. That need to be off in a room of your own, but still hollering down. Then it was so sad but I still laughed at you taking over the chair. The spare honesty of this… good poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dale

    It is the lesson of a world that plays for keeps. That we do not own nor possess the circumstances of a life. Try as we might, those circumstances will happen whether we are ready for them or not. And sometimes they will bring us to our knees and make us question everything.

    But we own the way we face up to those circumstances. You may have lost this room, but you found a place. And no, it’s not the same now and it never will be the same way again. But it’s still yours, differently.

    This is a strong, beautiful piece of writing.



    Liked by 1 person

    • Marc,

      The universe (Yeah, I said it) loves to send us lessons and rare are the times we are ready for a lot of them. When they do bring us to our knees, I like to think it is so we can take the time to breathe, regroup, yes, question, and, when we are ready, push ourselves back up. Not so sure we could if we ended up flat on our face.

      Yes, we do. And yes, I lost this room, which apparently, I was only meant to have for a certain time. Now, I can redecorate a new one.

      Thank you so much. You know your words mean so much to me.



      Liked by 2 people

      • I can’t believe you said that, but . . of course I can. And will be in agreement.

        It’s those times, thankless and mean, that makes us who we become. And it’s a tenuous thing, isn’t it? Because we can go one of two ways, and if we were to lose ourselves in the despair and hopelessness, we might become bitter and old before our time.

        Make it yours.

        There is so much beauty in your strength.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. We live our lives in chapters, and sometimes each is a novella that stands alone! I loved the progression of your poem. Bravo

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Dang, my comment got lost in cyberspace!

    To recap — your poem has a beautiful rhythm that is both lyrical and light. I felt sadness, but also poignancy and hope and a real sense of belonging.

    It is beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Your comment was under Rochelle’s! I responded anyway even thought I saw this “Dang”!
      And am glad that in this part of your comment you mention hope and sense of belonging because yes. There is that.

      I am honoured you think so.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Whew! I thought I was kind of losing it! πŸ™‚

    It is a lovely poem Dale — and quite remarkable how you distilled all that you’ve experienced over the last few years into that beautifully poignant act of claiming his chair as yours. Soooo beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Nope! You weren’t. You are on the ball, Miss Thang! πŸ˜‰

      I do thank you. It’s funny how when I saw the prompt I knew where I wanted to go and then well… I surprised myself with the ending. I am truly chuffed!

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Not only was this well penned, as they say, but the idea it expressed was well thought out and for all of us true. I didn’t have a space of my own until I walked out of a relationship, and that after my last child had left home. And it felt divine. Prior to that, there was the bathroom with its locked door! Or a walk along the shore.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Jilly. I appreciate this lovely comment so much. I was chuffed when I sound this photo and then changed the computer screen …


  8. Ah Dale, this pulls at the heart strings. Beautifully written and it makes me think of my late father’s ‘rooms’ in various houses we lived in. They all had their own names, like ‘The Steptoe’ given to them by my mother. Now that I remember them, he never had the door fully closed and clearly you didn’t either metaphorically anyway.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ahh, thank you, Jean! I truly appreciate it and I love that it evoked your father and his rooms. Love ‘The Steptoe’!
      And no, never fully closed. He keeps stepping in as you can see.
      Dale xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

  9. A beautiful, touching story Dale. We all need our rooms and I can relate. Rooms can be both, a retreat or a prison as well. It depends on us. Well done my friend.

    Sent from my iPad


    Liked by 1 person

    • Nah… I just stopped using it as my office and started using his… and then I moved last June and left the office furniture for then new owners.
      Time to create mine.


        • I hear ya. My boys spend most of their days in their own rooms so I basically have the house to myself. The older one likes to cook so he makes an appearance now and again πŸ˜‰
          I am trying to find myself a new job but would love to work from home at this point.


  10. Sounds to me like you once had the best room, and now best is the room in your heart.
    You make me think… We can’t really hide, can we?
    Loved your choice of Prince song!
    Hope my answer made sense!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Aww. Thank you, Tim.
      Even five and half years later there are days more so than others. In the whole, though, I am good 😊


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