Nurturing the Home Within

Harvest Love Journal

Some of us are rebuilding homes no one can see.

Not the ones made of wood or stone—but the ones within our own hearts.
The kind that needed more warmth. More gentleness. More welcome.
The kind that never quite felt safe to simply be.

I’ve been learning that the first home I ever tend… is me.
And it’s been slow, honest work. Sometimes quiet. Sometimes messy.
But sacred all the same.

The Voice I Want to Quiet

For a long time, my inner home was ruled by a critic—
One that told me I was too much and not enough in the same breath.
That voice was sharp. Shameful. Always asking for more. Always asking me to shrink.

Some of it, I’m sure, came from childhood.
Some of it, I picked up in adulthood—through unspoken rules, perfectionism, performance, and people-pleasing.
But wherever it came from, I know this:
I don’t want to carry that voice forward.

I don’t want to decorate a beautiful home and leave my soul feeling empty inside.
I don’t want to create cozy rhythms around me while silencing the aching within me.
So I’ve been slowly, gently, nurturing the home within—learning to make space for all that I am.

How I’m Creating Inner Safety

I’m not here to “fix” myself anymore.
I’m here to tend to myself—with patience and tenderness.

Here are a few ways I’ve been nurturing the inner home:

Letting Myself Express Freely

I’m writing more, even if no one reads it. Speaking my feelings out loud, even if they come out messy. I want the little girl inside me to know: your voice belongs here.

Slowing Down Without Shame

Some days I don’t do much. I light a candle. I sit in the sun. I don’t “earn” my rest—I inhabit it. Guilt doesn’t get to run my rhythms anymore.

Beautifying My Space for Myself

I set the table even when I eat alone. I open the windows. I put on music that makes me feel soft and held. My outer space reminds my inner world: you’re worth care.

Speaking Kindly Inside

I used to berate myself for not being more productive, more graceful, more tidy. Now I pause. I bless the moment. I say things like: You’re doing okay. It’s safe to be you.

Making Room for Imperfection

I let things be unfinished. I show up as I am. I honor the becoming without rushing to be “healed” or “whole.” I let my life be in process—beautiful and real.

Why This Matters

Because someday, if I invite others into my life—children, a partner, a community—I don’t want to hand them a home full of silent rules and invisible pressure.

I want to hand them peace.

A model of gentleness. A way of being that says:

You are allowed to be real here. You are allowed to rest here. You are already enough.

And I can only give that… if I’ve first given it to myself.

A Note for You, If You're Rebuilding Too

Maybe no one taught you how to feel safe inside yourself.
Maybe love came with conditions. Maybe silence felt safer than being seen.
Maybe you, too, are learning how to make your soul a place worth living in.

If so—start small.
Start with one soft word. One slow breath. One corner of the day that feels gentle.

You are not behind. You are not broken.
You are building a home within. And it’s sacred work.

Light the candle. Fold the blanket. Speak with kindness.
You’re not just healing—you’re becoming your own safe place.

Journal Invitation:

What would it feel like to become a safe place for yourself?
Let your answer be soft. Let it arrive slowly.
You don’t need to fix anything—just notice what your soul longs for.

With love, Ilda