Home - what does that actually mean?

What do you think? Is home a house, a feeling, a place where you once lived, a place where you’ve never lived, perhaps even a community?

Also, how do you know when you are home?

In April this year I moved back to the UK after living in Thailand for almost 8 years.

When I told people I was returning, they would always reference the UK as my home.

“You’re going back home”.

But I didn’t feel like I was going back home.

I was moving to a town that was new to me, in an area I hadn’t lived in for over 20 years but most importantly, I wasn’t the same person I was 8 years ago when I left the UK.

How could I say I was going back home when I didn’t feel like it was my home that I was going to?

People often think that when you return to your home country after living abroad, you just slot right back in, but I didn’t feel that way.

Living abroad changes you.

You change how you act, speak, what you eat, your daily routines and your relationships.

You live life differently.

When I arrived in the UK I didn’t want to just slot right back in. And what was I really slotting back into?

Friendships I had before I left the UK had shifted, understandably. As we all walk new paths and realise that some friends are in our lives for a season. And that’s ok.

The places I used to go to before, felt different, because I was different.

I worked in a different industry and had very different values.

I didn’t slot back into any of my previous UK life. This was a new chapter.

So 3 months in, does the UK feel like home again? I’m pleased to say, yes, it does. 

What I quickly realised was that home isn’t a physical place to me, it’s the feeling of being home that helps me call a place home.

So what does this feeling actually feel like?

It’s the joy in your surroundings.

It’s the familiar smells and sounds.

It’s the same faces, a community.

It’s noticing the small things that you only really notice after the tenth time.

It’s the routines and the barista who knows your coffee order.

For me a routine has been a vital part of the ‘feeling of being home’. I am lucky to live one road away from the coast and enjoy walks along the beach almost everyday - something I did every morning in Thailand. I regularly go to a Crossfit gym not just for fitness but for the community. I journal daily, explore local cafes and enjoy the sunshine as much as I can.

This all helps me to create the feeling of being home.

But there’s been one anchor statement that has helped me in times of doubt and missing (my Thailand) home:  Trust in the process.

You can’t ever be certain how you’ll feel coming home. Even if it’s returning to a house you lived in for 25 years, a new city that you’ve researched endlessly and you're confident it’s your vibe or a place that just sounds exciting.

What we can be certain of is trusting in the process that it’s possible to create the feeling of being home.

It may take one year, one month or maybe just one day, but you’ll get there and if you ever feel like you’ve lost that feeling I’ll leave you with one thought…

Home really is where your heart is, and that is right here, in this moment.

Kat Amey is a Life Coach who helps people ditch conventional ideas of success and create a life that feels uniquely purposeful. Through understanding their values, she helps her clients figure out what success really means to them and then take steps to make it happen. Kat also hosts wellbeing workshops and retreats in the UK.

Main image by Ellie Letch, coffee image by Anna Considine from Studio Gently.

Did you enjoy this piece on finding home? Then you might also like our current “Homecoming Issue” (heiter print issue 2). You can find it here.

When work feels like home: diary of a creative business owner

Designer, mentor and writer Sarah Robertson shares her experience of building a business that has become her sanctuary. She illustrates how she engages sense, space and story to breathe life into a creative practice that feels like home.

For many, work is considered a necessary burden, a means to an end. But what if we could transform this way of thinking? What if we could view our work as nurturing and uplifting? Renowned theorist Brian Sutton-Smith, who spent his lifetime exploring and researching the significance of play, once stated: ‘The opposite of play is not work. It’s depression.’ I find this to be a powerful message because work is so often associated with negativity when, really, our jobs can bring a wealth of positivity into our lives.

Senses: the path to a you-shaped business

The journey to building a business that feels like home has layers. It took me a long while to see that it was possible to love my job, and for it to love me back, and that I could pursue a meaningful and purposeful calling that felt stimulating and rewarding. In their book, Creative Confidence, brothers David and Tom Kelley suggest that ‘passion doesn’t preclude effort, it requires it’, so this is less about the idea of never working a day in your life and more about finding a vocation that inspires you to take action.

To connect with what we do for a living, I believe it can help to tap into our sense of self, our likes and dislikes. In my studio, it's important for me to create a sense of comfort before I get down to supporting my clients and focusing on projects. This can look like making time for moments of stillness, and one of my cherished rituals involves making a soothing drink in a handcrafted mug, lighting a candle with a scent to complement my mood, and sometimes choosing a playlist depending on whether I'm writing, planning or designing.

There's an inexplicable charm in this practice that transcends the ordinary, morphing it into a sensory experience. A habit that, as simple as it may seem, is a profound act of self-care, serving as a gentle reminder of the importance of treasuring the tiny instances in life. I am telling myself that my work matters, that I matter.

Spaces: a caring environment for creativity

The spaces we inhabit play a pivotal role in shaping our experiences. A sterile office can stifle the creative spirit, while a studio that radiates warmth can catalyse innovation. A calm atmosphere always helps me shift into the right state of mind, and the smallest of touches can make a difference; a lamp casting a warm, inviting glow, a cosy blanket draped over my chair, or the vibrant green of indoor plants.

I consider my desk an “inspiration station”, a spot where I can fully embrace the pleasure of my client projects rather than regard them as a duty. After all, our jobs need not be the antithesis of fun! So I surround myself with my favourite crystals, stationery, and the books and tools that spark my curiosity and creativity. There's colour and texture, and it feels lively and playful.

Seemingly insignificant items can transform a mundane workspace into one that is reflective and supportive of us, and nurtures our individuality. And I wonder if it might be possible to fall into a deeper state of flow when our spaces are a true expression of our personalities.

Of course, stepping away from your place of work is also integral to creating a business that feels good, and finding a network to share in your successes and setbacks can foster a sense of belonging akin to the comfort of home. Whether you're in the company of others in a co-working area or savouring a coffee in the company of your local café, there's immense comfort and connection to be found in our communities.

Stories: crafting brands that feel like home

When your brand identity encapsulates your vision, values, and unique voice, weaving passion and purpose into your narrative, it builds a bridge. A link between you and your audience and a deeper relationship with yourself.

If I notice a feeling of disconnection in my design practice, I centre myself by revisiting my ‘why’. Reminding myself that collaborating with independent businesses to define their vision, craft beautiful visuals and discover their voice is at the heart of what I do, keeps me firmly rooted in a place of stability. This is where foundations can be found or made, and sparks of excitement and expansion can begin to grow. And it was this desire for groundedness that drove me to launch These Are The Days in 2020. Before this, I managed a design agency with my partner, and although we worked together successfully for many years and I enjoyed the challenge, the business was beginning to eclipse me. It felt unsustainable and required me to work increasingly harder and faster without nearly the same creative freedom I once enjoyed. What I longed for was a slower pace, a rhythm that supported my head and my heart, a business shaped around the contours of my life.

In his 2020 TED talk, Ethan Hawke articulated an idea that echoed with me. He said: ‘If you get close to what you love, then who you are is revealed to you, and it expands.’ What this makes me think about, and what I want to leave you with, is that home is love. It seems logical then that genuinely enjoying what we do is central to feeling fulfilled by our work. It's a process of curiosity and discovery, a journey that allows us to unfold into a safe space where we can fully express ourselves through what we do. And I can't think of a healthier narrative than that. END

Sarah Robertson is a designer, mentor and writer at These Are The Days, and the voice behind Brand Seasons — a publication and podcast exploring the rhythms of creative work and life. Her work blends strategy, styling and storytelling, helping thoughtful founders craft a brand that feel like home.

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Sarah’s piece was first published in Homecoming, heiter issue 2. Discover the issue that comes with many more stories and features about “finding home” in different areas and phases of life here.