The summer going into eighth grade, I pretty much "destroyed" my room. (My mom said I destroyed it, but whatever.)
My best friend at the time, Taylor, always came over when we were home alone. She's a home decorator person -- I swear they paint a room in their house every two or so months. They're always renovating something. When I first became friends with her, all the rooms in her house were different than the were now, not kidding.
So, all the rooms in my house are white. (I can't take it, but my mom loves the plainness, blahh). And my room was super cluttered, so Taylor and I came up with the bright idea to paint my room.
I had this kitty boarder around my room that I put up when I was like, six or seven. And since my walls were already white, I didn't need to prime my walls. And Taylor knows how to paint, so it was to be a pretty easy project. And the boarder was supposed to be the peel-off kind. The stuff that requires no effort to take off.
Yeah, well, the company lied.
We tried taking the boarder down, but IT WOULD NOT COME DOWN. And when we did, it was ripping the paint and the plaster of my walls. My room was a mess.
Needless to say, my mom FREAKED OUT. And I cried and cried and apologized, because my mom basically stopped speaking to me unless she was insulting me or commenting on my "bedroom that I destroyed." I told her for my punishment we should just leave my room the way it was.
And she wouldn't have that, because twenty or more years in the future they may want to sell the house, and it would lower the selling price just because of MY room. And they wouldn't get my room painted then, just to sell it.
So she spent like, $300 on my birthday that year in September, having someone paint my room, because she didn't trust Taylor and I to do it, though it would have been a lot cheaper.
I love my room now. The walls are bright periwinkle, the only colored room in the house. And my bed spreads and everything match perfectly. But I still regret it and feel absolutely AWFUL about it. It was a completely selfish thing of me to do.
It was bad, the whole summer and how mad my mom was at me. More than I can really express.
So yeah. I still feel guilty about that sometimes.