Jen's Musings | February 2026

Falling in Love With Your Home

Valentine’s Day tends to focus on romantic love — candlelit dinners, handwritten notes, grand gestures. But what if we widened the lens just a bit? What if this season became an invitation to fall in love with your home?

Not in a frivolous or sentimental way. Not in a “perfectly styled for Instagram” way. But in the truest sense — the kind of love that supports, steadies, and holds you when the world feels loud.


Because if we’re honest, the world can feel overwhelming. Fast. Demanding. Constantly asking for more.


And in that kind of environment, home becomes more than a structure. It becomes a refuge. And refuge is something worth loving.


Home as Sanctuary

We don’t typically talk about loving an inanimate object. A house is brick, wood, plaster, and steel. But what it holds? That’s different.


It holds your early mornings and late-night conversations. Quiet cups of coffee before the day begins. Holidays, hard conversations, laughter echoing down hallways, and the slow unfolding of history.

When thoughtfully designed, a home becomes something that embraces you.

Architecture matters here. Proportion, light, material — these shape how we feel. Natural light spilling across a kitchen island at 8 a.m. can shift the mood of an entire day. A living room designed to invite gathering and conversation — or quiet, restorative respite — changes how a home is experienced. A bedroom layered in calming textures, patterns, colors, and soft light can soften the edges of a long week.

Design is not just about aesthetics. It’s about emotional response. A home should exhale with you.


The Spaces That Hold Us

Think about the rooms in your home that feel most meaningful. It’s rarely the trendiest finish or the newest piece of furniture. It’s the experience.

The dining room where birthdays have been celebrated for years. The kitchen where homework was done while dinner simmered. The table where guests linger long after dessert.


These spaces become memory-makers. They become chapters of our lives.

Thoughtful design supports that process — seating arranged to encourage connection rather than distance. Lighting layered to create intimacy rather than glare.


Materials that age gracefully and tell a story over time: stone that softens, wood that deepens in tone, textiles that invite touch and become more beautiful with wear.

There is something grounding about living among materials that are honest and enduring. In a culture that moves quickly and replaces constantly, permanence feels almost radical.


Designing for Well-Being

Loving your home doesn’t mean loving perfection. It means loving how it supports your well-being.


What speaks to you? Collections layered with photographs, art, and objects gathered over time that tell your story? Or a refined, minimalist approach that embraces less — yet somehow feels like more.

Color plays a role. So does scale. So does clutter — or the absence of it. There’s power in simplifying visual noise. There’s peace in cohesive design that allows the eye to move calmly from one space to the next.

Texture matters deeply. Natural materials ground us. Handcrafted pieces remind us of human touch. Even small shifts — warmer lighting, a tactile rug underfoot, editing excess — can transform how a space feels.


Honoring History, Creating New Chapters

For many of us, home is also about legacy.

Perhaps it’s an older property with architectural bones that deserve honoring. Perhaps it’s a newer build with a clean canvas ready for character, depth and narrative to be thoughtfully layered within its walls.

Respecting architecture is an act of care. At the same time, a home must reflect the life being lived inside it today.


Family grows. Children leave. Work shifts. Priorities change. Rooms evolve.

Love Is an Atmosphere

Love is less about objects and more about atmosphere. Soft light. Intention. A welcoming entry. A reading corner layered in natural light and linen. A dining table that comfortably seats you and your guests. A bedroom that feels cocooned and restorative. A kitchen designed for both beauty and function.

These are quiet commitments to how you want to live.

An Invitation This Valentine’s Day

Walk through your home with fresh eyes. Notice what feels good. Notice what feels unsettled. Ask yourself where you feel most at ease — and why.

Because in a world that often feels chaotic and demanding, your home has the potential to be steady. Warm. Grounded. And if that’s not something worth loving, I don’t know what is. 

Jennifer Myers