Exploring the relationship between the places we live and the lives we're trying to build.
I’ve noticed that when we start thinking about finding a new home, we spend a lot of time thinking about what makes a house a good one. We consider the location, the layout, the size, the lighting, and whether it checks the right boxes. If we’re already living in our own home, we begin to think about what we might change, what we absolutely love and cannot live without, and what we want our next home to look like.
It’s normal to move from recognizing that something about our house isn’t working anymore to deciding that it’s time for us to move. Soon, we’re imagining what might come next, consulting a professional about selling our current home, and looking at new properties online. Not because the process is easy – it isn’t – but because we know we need a change, and moving gives us an immediate, actionable place to start.
But I wonder how often we stop to consider a different question first: what is it about a home that makes it right for us, for our lives and those in it, and for who we are becoming? Working with people and their homes over the past decade has made me deeply curious about what takes place before and after the move. I want to know what people are looking for and why, how much thought and planning really occur, and what they hope will be different when they find it. Do we take the time to pause between recognition and action?
The space and features of a home are relatively easy to identify. Understanding how we feel about living there, and why we feel that way, can be more complicated. Location, community and layout are all important, but there is much more to home than a list of criteria. Before we begin looking for another home, it can be useful to gather a little more information about what we're actually hoping to change.
Sometimes, the home we chose for one version of our lives no longer fits who we are today. It checked the boxes, it was in the right neighborhood, or it fit our previous financial requirements. Our current home might be one we worked hard to find, a place we once loved, or it may still look perfectly good on paper; and yet; our experience in it may have changed.
Many times, the reason is obvious: a growing family, a different job, a new relationship, a change in finances, or a need for more (or less) space. Life changes like these often lead us to quickly jump to our next home search; and there are times when moving is absolutely the right thing to do. Still, I believe it’s important to explore and ask questions before making decisions. You may have decided that a bigger home will solve the problem, but have you considered what you're hoping the additional space will make possible? More space doesn't automatically mean more privacy, flexibility, or ease. One obvious need does not necessarily give us the entire picture.
Other times, the feeling arrives before the explanation. We find ourselves restless, frustrated by familiar routines, disconnected from our surroundings, or imagining a different way of living without knowing exactly what that would look like. That uncertainty can be uncomfortable. We may think that we should be grateful for what we have, or that wanting something different means we have failed to appreciate it. Inadvertently, we may assume that our feeling of dissatisfaction is a sign that a home is wrong. Sometimes we may simply need to adjust our expectations, address a practical problem, or recognize that the discomfort has little to do with our physical surroundings.
What I’ve noticed is that in either case, the reason or the feeling is useful information, but it isn't yet an answer. It’s an invitation to ask more questions. Are we experiencing a life or job change? Has our circle of friends and coworkers shifted? Is there something else we’d rather be spending our time on, that doesn’t feel attainable from where we currently are? Sometimes the most useful discoveries happen in the space between recognizing that something has shifted and understanding what, if anything, we want to change. What might we learn if we stayed with this question a little longer?
Perhaps the question isn't simply whether a home is right or wrong. Rather, maybe it's whether we're still asking the right questions about what we need from it.
Our lives change, and our needs change with them. The home that supported us in one season may not support us in quite the same way in another. Our homes influence more than how we organize our days and routines. They shape how we experience life in the ordinary moments: where we find comfort, how we connect with others, and whether the place we're living feels like somewhere we belong. They can give us room to grow or make us aware of the constraints we're living within. Our homes can also give us a place to notice these things, consider what matters most, and decide what we might want to change.
I’ve been exploring the idea that the features we want in a home may be expressions of needs we haven't fully identified. For instance, we might say we want more space, a different neighborhood, a home office, or a quieter street. Those preferences matter. But it can be useful to explore what sits underneath them. More space may mean wanting greater independence, flexibility, or even more defined spaces for specific purposes. A different location might reflect a desire for connection, community, or a different pace of life. A designated home office space could represent wanting a different relationship with work or a need for more privacy. A desire to move might signal a genuine need for change, even when the nature of that change remains unclear. Understanding the need can change the range of solutions we’re able to see.
When we begin by assuming we already know what we want, we can easily overlook alternatives. It's a little like deciding you want a new white Toyota 4-Runner and suddenly noticing them everywhere. Once we've settled on a solution, we tend to notice the things that reinforce it. When we start instead with what matters, we leave more room to see other possibilities.
When we begin to look at home this way, the question changes. We're no longer evaluating a space only by what it offers us today. We're considering the relationship between that space and the life we want it to support.
Now, sometimes the answer is truly a change to the home itself. It may be a shift in how we use one or more spaces, what we prioritize, or what we expect from it. It may be an addition or a repurposing of outdoor space. And sometimes, after careful consideration, we recognize that moving really is the right next step. A home doesn't have to meet an idealized picture of what it should be. It needs to make sense for the people living there, the life they're living now, and what they hope to make room for next. When we understand what we're trying to support or change, we have a clearer basis for weighing our options.
I find it fascinating though, how a different question can reveal a different answer. The question we begin with influences the possibilities we see. The value is not in reaching one particular outcome. It's in understanding why that outcome makes sense for us. We can make decisions with greater intention. We can distinguish between what we genuinely need, what we would simply enjoy, and what matters most over time. We can allow uncertainty to be part of the process. Not every question needs an immediate answer. Sometimes the most productive first step is to notice a pattern, name a tension, or acknowledge what has changed. Understanding where we are is an important part of moving forward.
This is the space I want Dwelling on Homes to explore: the pause between recognizing that something has changed and understanding what might come next. It’s a place to get curious about the patterns in how we live, the things that keep asking for our attention, and the priorities that might be shifting along with us. What feels important in this season of life? What do we want our home to make room for in this one or the next? When we begin to look at those questions a little differently, what possibilities might we not have yet considered; whether that means changing how we live in our current home, adapting to what we need now, or finding somewhere new? These are all connected and exploring them can help us better understand not just what we want from a home, but why it matters.
These are the kinds of questions I keep returning to, and the reason I wanted to create a place to explore them. The purpose of Dwelling on Homes is not to deliver a universal definition of the right home. That definition belongs to every one of us, and the needs, priorities, and visions of each will differ as wildly and greatly as we each are different people with varying needs and interests. I hope to create space for a broader conversation about what home means to all of us, and how that understanding might change over time.
My love affair with homes began at a young age, when I first learned how to draw rough sketches and realized I could use my imagination to visualize detailed spaces from those drawings. That interest eventually led me to a career in real estate, where I've spent more than a decade helping people navigate decisions about where and how they live. Over time, my curiosity grew beyond the physical property or the transaction. While I genuinely still enjoy showing homes and connecting with people, I’ve become increasingly interested in the questions that come before the search and continue long after the move. I’ve begun exploring what home means to people, what they are hoping it will make possible, and how that relationship changes over time.
I've found myself wanting more room to explore those questions than the pace and practical demands of a real estate transaction typically allow. That’s why I chose to create Dwelling on Homes as a place to examine, challenge familiar assumptions, consider perspectives that might otherwise be overlooked, and explore the relationship between the places we live and the lives we're building.
If you choose to follow along on this journey, know that the exploration can be useful whether you’re considering a move, trying to make your current home work better, or simply becoming more aware of what you want from the place you live.
Maybe rethinking home begins with a simpler question: not just whether the place we're living in is the right one, but what we want it to make possible. That's the perspective behind Dwelling on Homes, and the question at the heart of this work. There's so much more to consider than the house itself. I'd like to explore it together.
