The making of a home.
BY ALESHA SINKS
Alesha is a wife and a stay-at-home mommy to two lively boys, living in sunny South Florida. She loves cooking, reading, the beach, and long conversations with good friends. She writes essays and poetry to encourage herself and others to daily reset their perspective on truth.
When I walked into our apartment of seven years on that last day, it felt like a slap in the face. My breath was gone, and my stomach felt hollow and sick simultaneously. I had forgotten, for the briefest moment, that this little apartment wasn’t my home anymore.
Even though I logically knew I was walking into a nearly empty apartment, ready to clean and hand over the keys, my heart and my body still thought they were walking into the space I’d spent the last seven years turning into an oasis for our family.
A place we could walk into and let out our held breath.
A place we could kick off our shoes.
A place we could relax into being our fullest, most honest selves.
So when my exhausted body walked across the threshold of our former home, only to realize it no longer was home, the realization took my breath away.
As I gazed at bare walls and empty rooms, realizing that my safe place was gone, I redoubled my desire to turn that long hoped-for little condo across town into a deeply safe and welcoming space for myself and our family. To turn it into our home.
In the mercifully few moves of my adult life, I’ve learned that creating a home is as equally dependent on the state of my heart as it is on the state of my house. Yes, unpacked boxes and clean floors help to make a place feel like home, but that isn’t all there is to it.
There is a certain amount of connection that must be developed into a space in order for it to become that place you walk into and your body instantly relaxes, in order for it to become home. And I’ve learned that there are a few things I can do to speed along this process.
If you are struggling to feel at home in any physical space in your life right now, I hope these tips can help you to dig into those spaces and find a deep rootedness, a home, there.
1. Pay attention to how you act in homes where you feel extremely comfortable, then act that way in your new home.
When I am “at home” somewhere, I hurry to slip my shoes off and go barefoot. Then I grab a blanket and curl up under it on the couch.
So in our new home, I made a point of taking my shoes off as soon as the construction dust was swept into the trash. And I didn’t wait till we bought a new couch to unpack my favorite throw blankets and pillows in the living room.
I sometimes still have to intentionally remind myself to take off my shoes. It seems silly, but these tiny practices are deeply helpful in training my heart and body to accept this new space as home.
2. Pay attention to the little things you do in your own home that you rarely do anywhere else. Then intentionally do those things.
Maybe you wear a bathrobe for the first hour of the day or change into yoga pants the minute you get home from work. Maybe you take naps in your bed with all the covers or close your blinds when the sun goes down.
For me, the French press and coffee grinder were a top priority to dig out from our moving boxes, not because I don’t enjoy a morning coffee shop run, but because making my own coffee each morning is something I associate with home.
3. Do homemaking chores, even if it feels pointless in the midst of all the mess.
I spent one entire day before we moved in scrubbing my new kitchen. It was gross. And exhausting.
But by the time we started unpacking dishes, I didn’t think twice about placing my silverware in drawers and my plates in the cupboard. I knew it was clean. And I knew every inch of that kitchen, and it was mine.
Being physically close to my kitchen helped me to feel at home with it. The same was true with my bathrooms and even the floors. Once I spent time physically scrubbing them, they began to feel like mine.
4. Create a “finished” space in your new home where you can rest.
We worked hard to keep moving boxes and clutter out of our sons’ room. From day one, that space has been the most unpacked, the most settled in the whole house.
Sometimes, when I’ve needed a break from the unpacking and the organizing and the cleaning, I go sit in there while my sons play. I breathe deeply and let the relaxing atmosphere of the unpacked, settled-in room wash over me.
5. Invite people into your home, even if it’s not company-ready.
I’m writing this from our living room couch, and there are two boxes of picture frames sitting to my left, along with painting supplies and a shop vac. There is a moving bag of blankets in front of me and a window that still needs new blinds and cleaning, and yet, we’ve already hosted people four separate times.
Welcoming friends and family into our unfinished space has possibly been the most important thing we have done in order to help this space feel like home.
Hosting people creates memories in your new space, which is one of the things so necessary in helping your heart accept that space as home.
It feels weird or at least unconventional, but it is a gift to yourself and those you host. You are inviting them into your real life, the messy, not-finished-yet part of you. And you are, in turn, allowing them to help you turn your new space into a home filled with joy and memories.