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I recently read an Instagram post by Katherine from My Eclectic Grace and I loved the idea behind it. Like me, she’s in the process of fixing up a new-to-her house, and like me, she’s got a million different projects going on at any given time.

In her post, she mentioned something I’ve always had in my mind but have never really put into words—the reason we pour so much time and energy into spaces that, 99% of the time, are only seen by us and our significant other.

It’s because home is a special place.

Today, I wanted to follow Katherine’s lead and share a bit more about my vision for the little bungalow Johnny and I call home—the reason I feel it’s worthwhile to invest time, energy and money (which you know I hate to part with) to make it ours.

My Vision For Our Home

I’m a very social person, but I also love to be at home.

Growing up, my house was the place where all my friends would come hang out. My mom would whip up a snack for us and we’d sprawl out in the living room, watching movies and laughing it up (very suburban America). Home was a safe place.

In college I lived in an apartment and later a house with three other girls, and those places always seemed to be full of people and full of fun. There was never a dull moment, always someone to get ready with or binge on pizza and watch horrible MTV reality shows. Home was a social place.

Once I got a place of my own, first with roommates and later with Johnny, I loved entertaining, having people over to watch football or have drinks before going out. Home was place for our favorite people to gather.

These days my home is much more private. The majority of the time it’s just me, Johnny and the pets around, and let’s be honest, working from home means I spend an unhealthy amount of time here. Even so, I’ve only grown to love it even more.

For me, home is the place of ultimate comfort. I may be gregarious, but I’m an introvert in that being around people for extended amounts of time is incredibly draining to me. When I walk in my door, I instantly exhale. It’s that feeling when you set down a giant load of grocery bags and collapse onto the couch in relief—that’s what coming home feels like to me.

As far as aesthetics, I’m not naturally a design-minded person. My interest in fashion goes as far as buying what’s cute and affordable, and I’ve always sucked at art. Still, when it comes to home design, there’s a very specific style I aspire to for my own space.

It’s a beach house in Cape Cod. A plush hotel room comforter. A skylight filtering rays of sunshine. Light colors and neutrals and soft surfaces.

It’s functional first: floors that are forgiving of a little sand, no decorative objects too fragile or precious, tabletops that won’t be marred by a drink without a coaster. And never—never ever, except for maybe one day when I have a full-time, live-in housekeeper—white furniture.

I want my home to be a place where my loved ones and I can relax, be ourselves, and, in a world where we’re connected and preoccupied nearly every minute of the day, just be.

For most of my adult life, my homes have been temporary. I tried to count how many different apartments and houses I’ve lived in since moving out of my mom’s house, and I lost count at ten. I know that’s the case for a lot of people my age. It’s the new normal not to stay in one place for too long *cue that old James Taylor song*.

But now, in this house we moved into just a few months ago, I finally get the sense that we could be here awhile. Maybe we will, maybe we won’t, but I’d be more than happy to stay here. It’s the reason I’m so invested in making this house a place I truly love.

So that’s my vision behind the space I’m creating. I’m slowly but surely working my way there. Thank you for following along!

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