Why Home Matters – A Place to Land, to Arrive, to Belong. *(1 of 3)
We all carry stories, and what home means to us — and what it hasn’t always been. In this first reflection, I share the beginnings of my own relationship to home. It didn’t start with walls. It started with a deep longing to belong, to open up, and arrive. If you’ve ever felt unrooted, I hope you find resonance here.
I’ve moved often, as a child and as an adult, navigating new houses, new schools, new countries, and new jobs.
It shaped me in ways I wouldn’t comprehend until much later. I learned quickly how to adapt, to observe, to perform and be what was expected of me. Each new space brought a new lesson in conformity. I hadn’t learned what it meant to settle. To ground myself in softness. To feel safe. To trust enough to stay.
I hadn’t learned what it meant to settle. To ground myself in softness.
Home, for a long time, was a concept I didn’t have access to. Not emotionally. Not physically. It was something I watched other people have — a place that seemed to hold space, a sense of community for them. There was no jealousy. I was busy being on the move, in transition, and I embraced this sense of wonder, and adventure. It was my identity.
The turning point came when we had our son. My husband and I chose to move closer to family, and stay in one place for a while. Looking back now, it wasn’t just the baby boy—it was also me who needed a place to land. My mind, body, and soul felt conflicted at first, -the newness of settling needed time for processing, to integrate. Being in one place meant growing roots, forming connections, allowing yourself to belong. To allow this to happen, I needed to open up. It was a complex journey, especially when the only safety I knew was keeping my heart closed and protected.
Being in one place meant growing roots, forming connections, allowing yourself to belong.
It was an undoing. A process that took time, even years. But I started letting this stillness in. I chose to ground myself, and it opened my eyes to the importance of a home. Not just in the literal sense of four walls and a bed, but as in a safe haven, and a feeling of being fully yourself.
I chose to ground myself, and it opened my eyes to the importance of a home.
This is my Why.
Home, to me, is an inner settling.
A sanctuary where I can breathe, become intentional, and aware. To welcome a slower pace. A place where I don’t have to explain myself. Where I get to show up as I am, not as who I think I need to be.
I started learning how to build that as an adult — in small ways. Remembering that secondhand chair. The softness of my rug underfoot. One room. It felt like my refuge. One corner that I claimed with intention. I didn’t need to own a house. I needed to feel at home in myself, in the space I was in, in that exact moment and phase of my life. One action, one step at a time.
We all deserve that.
And we all have permission to begin at different phases of life.
If you’ve never known what home feels like, start small.
One quiet morning. One ritual. One intention that grounds you.
Let the space you live in reflect the life you’re ready to claim.
Sometimes, home starts not by adding, but by noticing.
What brings you ease? What brings you breath?
It’s okay if it’s just a shelf, or just one chair.
The point is never perfection. The point is always presence.
Let yourself land.
Let it be enough.
