Home is where the heart is? Right? I mean, the phrase was coined with reason yet when I deconstruct the phrase itself (because I pick apart words like I would pick my childhood scraped knee scars), I think about how truly layered it is.

What does home mean to you?

For me, home is a place I work to make beautiful everyday. And no day is ever perfect.

Home is my mind.
Home is my attitude toward myself and the world.
Home is my body and the way I feel in it, understanding and accepting its story.
Home is cooking a meal because I'm worth the time I put into myself.
Home is knowing what I deserve and taking the steps to get there even when I’m scared.
I am my home.

So, how do you care for your home?

My home is cared for by the thoughts I feed it and the actual food I give her. This also means I am solely responsible for all parts of her and I can’t blame anyone when shit goes down. She requires massive upkeep and, at times, proud moments can feel distant. When she is denied nutrition, water, sleep, love, and sex (sorry/not sorry mom and dad) - she can be a beast. No truer words have been written.

So, how do you feel in your home?

The better I treat my home, the more comfortable I feel in it. When I’m not over committing to plans, when I date with intention and not of obligation or fear of loneliness, engage with friends I love, pick-up the phone to say I love you, cook with my bra on and eat in my underwear - I feel at home.

I know I’m home when I can hear myself think. Logically.

We can come up with so many excuses to not treat ourselves well - family, the kids, our partners, bad dates, being knocked down by life. I’ve treated myself poorly because of all of the above. Never in love. Old ovaries. Making life about work. Sitting with whether or not I’ve missed a window or multiple windows; wanting everything to fade to black. But instead of focusing on never’s and worries, I try to focus on my now. Right now, I hold my best friends baby tightly, I think about how I’m so completely in love with my friends and I live in a place of who knows. Making a home is about seeing possibilities even if we don’t know how to get there. I have faith I’ll be ok - that when I wake up and open my eyes each morning; I will be better than I was the day before even if I did screw up.

To treat ourselves well is the greatest gift we not only give ourselves, but those around us. I wish I had something more prescriptive to offer - something concrete - something to help you start choosing you. But I’m also still working on it.

Take a moment to write. Don’t fear being alone without the tv on.
Go for a walk. Help someone who needs it. Look up at the sky. Look down at the ground for signs.
Grocery shop. Re-organize your pantry. Cook a meal. Share that meal.
Get dressed up and take yourself out for a glass of wine. Buy yourself flowers.
Sit in your underwear and stare at your walls. Make a blanket fort. Read.
Spend time with people you love. Tell someone you love them. Say and show you care.

That’s all I’ve got, right now. No recipe required.

But if in case you need a lead on that dinner … from my single woman kitchen comes copious meals made of canned fish …

You may think it’s gross, but I don’t care - some of my favorite meal moments were made of tuna, salmon, sardines and anchovies … all from a tin. My college roommates boyfriend used to call me Bumble Bee Tina. Let’s just say, my longest love affair has been with tinned fish. 18 years and going strong. It lines my pantry and it saves me on weeknights. Perhaps, I have been in love after all?

Click here to get fishy! Plus notes on the best brands, greens, vinaigrettes and more inspiring words!

XO
Tina

How To Make A Home + A Canned Fish Flashback