making a house into a home.
we all deserve a safe space.
Before I go into my rant of the day, I want to take a moment to notice and hold space for those who lost everything in the fires - our homes are our sanctuaries and the pain of losing a lifetime of memories can be too much to bear.
This story starts in July 2021 when I moved into my safe space.
During the pandemic, I dedicated to relocate from the chaotic of New York to Philadelphia in hopes of a quiet(er) start.
By July 2023, I was moving out with a shattered heart and the only silence that existed in my life was between my ex and I realizing that this was our end.
In Philadelphia, I had a beautiful loft that I was really proud of which had turned into a symbol within my life. It was more than just an apartment but it was the first time in my adult life that I felt settled and content with my accomplishments and who I was as a person.
And as the age old tale goes - all was well - and then I got a boyfriend.
Post breakup, I fled to my second home - Arizona. I had moved there right out of college and it was a space where my high school friends (coincidence) and my post-college friends collided like a Venn diagram.
I knew that I needed my friends to help me through my heartache and I knew that spending more time in the fresh air would heal me. So I packed up my Toyota Corolla and shipped her back to the other side of America.
Since 2023 to now, I’ve always been in other people’s spaces.
Renting a townhouse, extending my trip home, staying in an extended Airbnb. I’m thankful that I had the resources to provide myself shelter but nothing really felt like home.
What is home to me?
Home is the space where we feel comfortable enough to take off the mask we present to the world - with the people and the animals and the things we love.
After two years of bouncing around, crying in public places, and looking inwards instead of outwards, I found my first real home.
For the holidays, I spent six weeks in my hometown in hopes of connecting with my family members and childhood friends knowing I would be permanently relocating.
Finding a place in a different country is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do so I kept my apartment process as quiet as possible knowing there was a chance this opportunity wouldn’t go through. I told myself that the universe had my back and for once, I was fully trusting it.
Because of my faith in myself and my next steps, my approval process went through after a series of WhatsApp messages and Docusign documents.
I packed up my suitcases once again, visited my storage unit, and set off on my next voyage. Even though I had spent most of my year in the same city, for some reason, everything felt terrifying - I think traveling/digital nomading is one thing but signing your name on the dotted line felt so permanent.
Two early bird flights and a hotel room later, I was back in my favorite place with a translator and a lawyer feeling like I’m living in a manifestation. After the final walkthrough and handover of the keys, I stood in my new space alone.
What the fuck did I just do?
Truthfully the first day wasn’t real because I unpacked my sheets, ordered food, and slept for 12 hours but the next day was New Year’s Eve. I had an invite from a good friend to bring in the New Year’s but I respectfully declined. I knew I needed to start out this year alone.
The calmest New Year’s I had up until this point was 2021 going into 2022.
With my newly decorated loft, I wanted to celebrate in peace. I made myself a steak, I got some Prosecco, pre-ordered my gardening tools, and enjoyed myself with a side of Adele. I couldn’t remember the last time had felt that way so this year, I wanted to replicate the feeling - the feeling of peace and safety.
On New Year’s Eve, I spent the day with our girl
being thankful for friendship, connection and home decor before going our separate ways.
I spent the last night of 2024 going over my year, going over the last three (ish) years, and how my life had unfolded in the most unexpected ways.
I woke up on the first day of 2025 focused on making my house a home.
In a way, the rebuilding of my home feels like a rebuilding of myself.
With this home, outside of the essentials (pillows, cleaning products, etc), I have been sourcing items from small local businesses and thrift stores in an effort to contribute to underconsumption in a realistic way.
I want this home to be reflect the peace and serenity that I had worked so hard to bring in my life. (My next post will be about de-centering men within my life)
Fast forward seven days into the New Year and the LA fires started - mass evacuations started to occur and an outpouring of videos of individuals who lost everything started to appear.
This post was supposed to go live the same day.
In efforts to not be tone-deaf, I buried my thoughts and sent out my support and empathy to anyone I could. I’ve tried to donate to GoFundMes that I felt are reliable, I’ve been streaming Heidi Montag’s songs (if you know you know) in an effort to help their family rebuild, and defending others who ignorantly comment “it’s just things.”
Regardless of my current location, the fires really hit home for me on an emotional state.
There are people who spent their lives building a home and a space for themselves and their families and their animals to lose everything in an instance.
After moving so many times, rebuilding has just become second nature to me when in reality, rebuilding is one of the biggest and most difficult things to do in life. Starting over, replacing items, making community is something that can take years.
Thinking about those who are homeless and hopeless, I appreciate my new space now more than ever because my home is not being made out of need or panic but out of love and patience which is a luxury within itself.
I wrap this up by emphasizing the importance and the appreciation of having a home - a safe space.
We all deserve somewhere to lay our heads at night, to feel safe and warm.
A place we can fill with laughter and love and memories that last for a lifetime. Whether it’s in a city high-rise or a mobile home in the forest or a farm house in a the countryside, I hope you have a space or are creating a space that is your sanctuary.
For those rebuilding, I want to send a message of encouragement - I know this was unexpected and the devastation is unfathomable but know your feelings are valid, understand that your pain valid, and I pray that on the other side of your rebuilding process that you and your loved ones can find peace, safety, and abundance.
Where’s your safe space?
This is so beautiful! Slowly adding items of beauty, resonance, and comfort to our space is truly a spiritual process. It's a blessing to see oneself reflected in the space around them. It's an outward display of existence in a world that so often wants to erase us. Have fun carving your slice of heaven. I've moved a lot for work, school, and everything in between, and this felt like sipping some peppermint tea with an extra dollop of honey.
this warmed my heart. thank you so much for sharing ❤︎