Home

I’ve often pondered this word: home. What makes a place truly feel like home? Is it the people, the carefully chosen furniture that fills each corner, or the memories that linger in every room? Is it the sense of comfort, the warmth that surrounds you when you walk in after a long day, or the feeling of safety? I’ve always found the feeling of home difficult to pin down with words, as if it’s something only your heart understands, even when your mind cannot fully grasp it.

For many, home is synonymous with the people who inhabit it. They say, “Home is where the heart is,” meaning that our closest relationships define the essence of home. While I can see the truth in that statement, I can’t completely agree. Home is more than just the people who live in it. It’s the feeling of comfort, beauty, and, most importantly, the memories created in a particular space and time. It’s the moments shared within those walls, the atmosphere that’s cultivated, and the small things that may seem insignificant but hold meaning. 

My home is small. It’s a bubble, cozy and intimate, a place filled with the most gorgeous, warm, and inexplicable feelings. It’s not the size of the house or the grandeur of the space that makes it feel like home; it’s the energy that fills it. There’s something about walking in and immediately feeling the day’s stresses melt away. 

It’s the laughter that echoes through the hallway, the peaceful moments spent in solitude, the flicker of candlelight on a quiet evening. It’s a place where I’m allowed to feel, to be, and to breathe without expectations. It’s the space to be. Just simply be.

By Sarah Makani