Back in 1995 – 1996, when I was dating my exhusband, we were long distance. I was in Florida. He was in Baltimore. For our entire courtship, we were long distance (I personally wouldn’t recommend that…just my opinion).
We started discussing marriage towards the end of 1996 beginning of 1997. I was convinced that he would move to sunny South Florida and we would build our life there. Who would NOT want to live in sunny South Florida?? (ALL THAT HAS CHANGED…but I digress)
I was the girl who said, “I will never leave Florida. How will I survive without the comfort of my family and the beach? Nope. My husband will have to move here!”
Well one night we had talk about moving. He moved to Columbus, OH and suggested that I move to Ohio. My heart sank, but after laying out the pros and cons, I reluctantly agreed and moved to Columbus, OH after we said “I do”.
We packed up my Red Toyota Tercel and drove from Fort Lauderdale, FL to Columbus, OH. We left the day after our wedding. My heart was still in my shoes. I was so sad.
We lived in an apartment and every place we lived as a married couple in Columbus including our first house, I never made that place a home. Never. Even after we divorced in 2005…I’ve bought my own house, lived in apartments, but I never made that place a home.
You know how when you walk into someone’s home and you’ll see photos of family, momentos, all the little things that say a family lives there and it feels like a home? That’s what I mean.
I never made each house or apartment a home because at the time I felt if I did that, it would mean that I’ve planted my feet in Ohio and I’d never move back to Florida.
I’ve been divorced for 12 years now, and although I’ve lived on my own in various locations, I noticed that I subconsciously do the same thing. My places of abode don’t feel like home to me because i haven’t made it so. Weird right? No picture on walls. Nothing about the places where I lived looked like Tasha lived there. I mean it looked like somebody lived there…just not Me.
Lately I’ve been stressed and just trying to make sense of this thing called life in my 40s. I’m a firm believer in “self-care” and I do what I can to make sure I implement “self-care”, I’m missing something though.
I was browsing a young lady’s Instagram page and notice that EVERYTIME I see the inside of her house it always looks like a home. Her home. When you come home from work and you feel like you’ve been beat up by the world, your house or apartment should be your home…your sanctuary. It should resemble the things that make you smile, feel at ease and at peace, the things that reflect you. This young lady’s home looks like that.
I told her how I felt and shared with her a little bit of what I shared here with you guys and this is what she said to me,
” I, for one, have always made anywhere I lay my head my home, whether renting it or owning it. It’s your home to enjoy until the next home venture…make it your sanctuary😘”
I told her I will do just that. Plus, Atlanta is home for me right now so my place needs to look like it. I’ve got some work to do.
I think making your place your home/sanctuary contributes to self-care. You can bring in items and things that make it hard for you to leave in the morning or excited to approach after work. Where I lay my head should reflect me and make me feel right at home. What do you think?
My fever for moving back to Florida has been cured and I’m glad about it!
I am Tash and I am making my apartment my sanctuary until the next home venture. Hopefully it’ll be a loft next!