How About A Home

Like promised, I’m going to give everyone a sneak peak of my current living situation to satisfy the abnormal curiosity towards other people’s personal lives that we all as human beings share.

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I got the smallest room because beggars can’t be choosers (jk just moved in last)
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I know the lighting is horrible but I wanted the fairy lights to show
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I have a walk-in closet, this is life goals. Except the coloring but one can’t have everything.

Last year I was living at halls, so I didn’t know any of my flatmates before I moved in. Also we only shared the kitchen, so to be honest I didn’t necessarily see them at all for days. This year however I am living with three friends from my course, and it couldn’t be more different compared to my previous experience. A part of it is that since this is a normal apartment and not student housing and it is meant to be lived in together, we run into each other a lot more than I used to in my previous place. But I would still say that the biggest difference is that I actually knew these people from last year, that we had chosen to live together and that we are in fact very good friends. I can’t even describe how nice it feels to be home at night, just chilling in someone’s bedroom, watching Netflix or chatting about random stuff or literally doing our own thing but still hanging out in the same space. The change to last year is huge. And don’t take me wrong, I liked my place last year very much. At the time I loved it! Coming home to a nice, quiet space, my own place where no one would disturb me, I thought it was great. It was only after I moved in here a bit over a month ago that I realized what I’d been missing: the people.

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Our kitchen is great

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I am a very homey person. A cozy person, someone who does not mind at all curling up inside a blanket for days on end as long as there is food, good books and yet again, Netflix around. And tea. You gotta have tea. So I like to spend time at home, and it is so important to me to have my own space to come back to after a crazy day, not just an impersonal house or a flat. I mean an actual home. Seeing that it seems odd to me that even though I am full aware of this side in me, it never occurred to me that what truly makes a home is the people. It’s not the scented candles or the pretty pillows and all that, it’s the people you share it with and who also call it a home. I love my home in Finland and I love my family, but I’ve gotten so incredibly lucky that I can now say that I also have a home in here. Not just a flat with a room in it, a home.

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I didn’t originally have a bedside table so I went and bought one off of someone I found online and I’m really proud of this proper experience in adulting

 

Then again I’m not gonna deny the importance of the scented candles and pillows, after all being a homey person brings along all sorts of interior decor obsessions. I should never be let to go alone to that store section where they sell all that useless crap like the wooden words or tiny glass jars or tons of different candles and throws and too small pillows to actually sleep on. Because I love all of that. I know it’s useless, but I can’t help myself. But to be fair a lot of the places where students normally live in in London aren’t the prettiest to begin with (just take a look at the color of my walls) and something needs to be done to fix that. And this is howΒ I justify my useless crap to myself.

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Can you see what I mean?
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I am the worst I do admit that.

Personally I think that I’ve gotten really lucky. I live with great people in a flat that even though is not the prettiest one possible, it is still our home away from home, the location of our place is great and all in all, everything turned out pretty great in the end.

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