Oh god, the first time I saw our ensuite I genuinely thought there’d been some kind of mistake. Like maybe the estate agent had accidentally opened a cupboard instead of showing us the master bathroom? But no, this was it – our “luxury ensuite” that you literally couldn’t turn around in without your bum touching something. Liam just stood in the doorway because there wasn’t room for both of us, and I remember thinking we’d made a terrible mistake buying this house.
You know what though? Three years later and I actually love this stupid tiny bathroom. I mean, I still can’t stretch my arms out without hitting a wall, but it’s become this perfectly functional little space that works way better than our old rental’s massive bathroom that had a bath in the middle of the room for no apparent reason. Sometimes constraints force you to be more creative than you’d ever be with unlimited space.
The breakthrough moment came about six months after we moved in, when I stopped trying to trick people into thinking the room was bigger than it was. All those Pinterest boards about “making small bathrooms feel spacious” were just making me frustrated because our bathroom wasn’t going to feel spacious no matter what colour I painted it. The real issue was that I couldn’t move around properly and had nowhere to put anything. Function over illusion, basically.
Going vertical saved my sanity. I’m talking proper floor-to-ceiling storage that uses the one thing we actually had – wall height. Liam’s dad helped me install these really narrow shelves that go right up to the ceiling, maybe six inches deep but they hold everything. Spare towels, all those skincare products I buy and use twice, cleaning supplies, even some of Amara’s bath toys because she insists on using our shower sometimes. The trick is arranging everything so it looks intentional rather than like you’re running a small pharmacy.
For the vanity, I did something that felt completely wrong at the time – I went smaller. The original one was trying to be a normal size in a not-normal space, which meant you had to squeeze past it sideways every time you wanted to get to the loo. Replaced it with this wall-mounted eighteen-inch unit that looks almost ridiculously small but works so much better. There’s actual floor space now, and I can store baskets underneath with cleaning stuff and toilet paper. Being able to see the storage somehow makes everything feel less cluttered too.
The shower was a proper headache. I’d been dreaming of one of those fancy walk-in showers you see on Instagram, but with barely three feet to work with, that would’ve meant water all over the bathroom floor every time someone showered. Found this brilliant sliding door system instead – the doors fold completely flat against the wall when they’re open, so the shower basically disappears. Went with clear glass because frosted would’ve made the space feel even more closed in, and now when the doors are folded back you can barely tell there’s a shower there.
Here’s something I learned the hard way – corner sinks are rubbish in tiny spaces. Sounds logical, right? Tuck it into the corner to save space? I tried it for months and it created this awful traffic flow where you had to do this weird sideways shuffle to get around it. Swapped it for a narrow rectangular sink that sits along one wall like a shelf. So much better. I can actually wash my face without my elbows hitting the walls, which is apparently a luxury I’d taken for granted.
Lighting became my obsession because that tiny window might as well not exist – our house is terraced so we get about two hours of actual daylight in there. I installed three different light sources, which sounds excessive for a room the size of a wardrobe, but it’s made such a difference. There’s a proper LED strip behind the mirror for when I’m trying to make myself look human in the mornings, softer overhead lighting for general use, and – this was Liam’s idea actually – LED strips under the floating vanity that cast this lovely warm glow upward. Makes the whole room feel more expensive and less like a prison cell.
I completely ignored everyone’s advice about keeping small bathrooms neutral and went with this gorgeous deep teal colour on the walls. Bit of a risk when you’re seven months pregnant and feeling massive, but it’s created this cosy cocoon feeling that’s actually really calming. The trick is keeping everything else – towels, accessories, storage baskets – in the same colour family so it doesn’t look random.
Storage became like a puzzle I was determined to solve. The mirror is actually a medicine cabinet but a really deep one, so all my daily stuff lives there. Magnetic strips on the inside of the vanity door hold tweezers and nail scissors and all those tiny things that used to live loose in drawers. Got these suction cup shelves in the shower that don’t need screwing into tiles – brilliant for shampoo and shower gel. The towel situation was solved with these heated rails that fold flat when not in use, because cold towels when you’re pregnant in winter are just miserable.
The flooring took me two attempts to get right. Originally went for tiny mosaic tiles because they looked so chic in the magazines – awful idea. Too busy, too many grout lines, made the space feel even more chopped up than it already was. Ended up with these big format tiles, 24×48 inches, in a soft grey that runs right up the walls in the shower area. Much cleaner lines and way easier to keep clean when you’ve got a toddler who thinks bath time means water everywhere.
The mirror deserves proper credit because it’s working overtime in this space. It’s one of those LED-backlit ones that somehow makes you look alive even when you feel like death, and it spans the entire width of the vanity. But it’s also storage – everything I use daily is right behind it but hidden away. No cluttered countertops because there’s literally no counter space for clutter anyway.
Not everything worked, obviously. Tried these over-toilet storage cabinets twice – different styles, both disasters. The first one made the ceiling feel about two feet lower, and the second one actually fell off the wall one night. Scared the life out of us and left proper holes in the tiles. Sometimes Pinterest lies about what works in real life versus what just looks good in photos.
What I’ve learned is that tiny master bathrooms can actually be more functional than big ones if you make every single element count. When everything has a specific place and purpose, your morning routine becomes this efficient little process instead of hunting around for your toothbrush or wherever you put your moisturiser. Everything’s within arm’s reach, nothing’s wasted space.
People are always surprised when they use our ensuite now. They expect cramped and awkward – because let’s be honest, it is tiny – but instead everything they need is exactly where it should be. The towels are warm, the lighting’s good, there’s somewhere to put their stuff. That’s the real win – not pretending it’s bigger than it is, but making it work perfectly within its ridiculous limitations. Sometimes the best solutions come from working with what you’ve got instead of fighting against it.
