For the past couple of weeks, home has been on my mind—what makes home, well, home? While I typically consider a home to be the place where your family is, I also believe that it's important for your home to feel the way you want it to.

That's something I've struggled with in my current apartment over the last year and two months. It hasn't felt like home.

When Grace and I first moved in here, we were ecstatic about having more space (For context, Grace is not a minimalist and a crafter, so storage space is a necessity). There was so much more storage, a dishwasher, vaulted ceilings, and the most important aspect—in-unit laundry.

But after the brief honeymoon period, I couldn't help but feel like I was living in a space that was too big for me. (I would like to acknowledge that I am privileged to feel this way about a space and that many people are not afforded that.)

For all its space, I haven't been able to arrange our living room in a layout that feels comfortable—probably because this place was designed in a way that's conducive to a single layout. The space makes everything feel distant and yet,somehow, claustrophobic.

I yearn for the space of our previous apartment, which was 725 square feet. It felt simpler, easier, even, to live in that smaller space. Less time was spent cleaning. I didn't feel like I had an insane amount of space that needed decorating to not feel sterile (I'm not the kind of minimalist to live in a bare white room), or that I needed more stuff to fill the closet space we had.

The smaller space made everything feel cozier to me, like I was closer and more in tune with everything surrounding me. I'm not one to be very spiritual, but that apartment, for all its faults and issues we had, felt like home.

I think that solidifies my belief that I'm not cut out for large homes. Even an 1100 square foot apartment feels massive to me. What's even more mind-boggling is this statistic: the average size of a newly built single-family house in the US is 2480 square feet, in stark contrast to the 909 square feet it was in the 1950s.

The more I've thought about my feelings about my home and what my life looks like going forward, I've settled on one pithy statement: closeness equals comfort. Closeness to my partner, closeness to our possessions, closeness to our cats.Being in close proximity to them brings me a deep sense of comfort and peace in a way that I can't really explain. That closeness is what makes a home to me. And in doing so, it creates a spiritual link of sorts to the place I'm living in.

I'm not sure if I'll ever make this place feel like that kind of home, but as I've done for the last year, I'll do the same for the next 7 months. I'll keep trying to make it feel like home.

As always, I appreciate you taking the time to read this newsletter. I'll see you in the next one.

Cheers,

Drew