Home is where the heart is. Where you hang your hat. Where your family is, or where the dog wags its tail. Home is a haven, a retreat, a sanctuary. Somewhere we feel safe and free to be ourselves.

Wherever you call home – be it rented, temporary, a house boat or a cottage in the countryside – home is home.

What our homes mean to us has been a big topic of conversation for me this week at work, and it got me thinking. Having just bought our very first house, home, more than ever, has become something more tangible, something that little more meaningful. I was lucky that my parents bought their current house when I was just two years old, and so I’ve always (fortunately) had somewhere that feels like home. Even as I ventured off to university, or rented my first ‘home’, I had my real home that I could go back to whenever I felt sad, lonely, or hungry.

It is a fascinating subject though. One where everyone has their own opinion. Some believe home is not merely bricks and mortar, but a feeling. While others believe it is wherever their loved ones – or their pets – are. If home is a feeling, then it has nothing to do with belongings or the house itself, it is what you make of it. Perhaps it is that having a more permanent home makes us more inclined to make it ‘homely’, but it doesn’t necessarily determine the contentment or enjoyment we feel from it. 

‘It’s good to be home’ – truer words have never been spoken. After a long and tiring day at work, most of us will look forward to stepping through our front doors. Of slipping into our slippers and putting the kettle on. The weekends too, invite us to make the most of our homes. Enjoying a solitary coffee on Saturday morning or having the family altogether for Sunday lunch. 

Perhaps then, home really is where the heart is, because home is wherever you – and those that you love – are.

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