More Than Decor: Creating a Home That Feels Like Me

I’ve never personally been asked what my decorating style is. And when I think about it, I’m not sure how to really put it into one neat word.

I don’t really follow the latest design trends. Anything overly modern feels too cold and dreary to me. I feel like that’s what’s in now, right? I much prefer a cozier atmosphere. One that feels lived in rather than designed just for aesthetics.

It just feels very…me.

My room is my haven, and I spend the majority of my time in it. It’s the space where I feel comfortable and safe. It’s a space where I unmask and just be myself. And I especially love it because it holds all of the things I treasure.

It’s filled with little pieces of my life. Souvenirs and trinkets collected from different trips sit on my shelves, each one holding a memory that transports me back to a specific moment. They’re little reminders of experiences I never want to forget.

I’m actually a little bit of a pack rat. I collect a lot of things most people might find odd to keep. Things like old ticket stubs, concert wristbands, and coins. I guess I create some sort of attachment to things that I think are meaningful.

But honestly, I think that’s part of what makes my space feel like home. Everything has a story behind it.

Looking back, I’ve always been drawn to certain colors and textures. Growing up, my room was a perfect dark blue hue, very Dodgers-esque, I’d say. My bedspread was a beige/tan color, and I had wicker furniture, which I still have to this day, but I’m kind of over it.

My ideal style is more of a Mediterranean/Italian-style home. Very rustic. I love this look because it feels very inviting, cozy, and just more me.

I think that’s one of the reasons I’ve always been drawn to Italy. The warmth. The old stone buildings. The worn wooden furniture. The feeling that every home has been loved for generations. It’s about character. That’s the feeling I want whenever I walk into my own room.

While I may not have my dream Mediterranean home, I’ve tried to bring pieces of that feeling into the room I have now.

Right now, I have pasta-colored walls and deep wine-red curtains that provide me all the darkness I desire. I have dim lighting and a beautiful picture of Venice hanging above my bed. I have my bookshelf that’s filled with books that have traveled with me through different seasons of life, along with little keepsakes that make the space feel lived in.

There’s something about rustic spaces that immediately puts me at ease. I think it’s because they feel imperfect. The wood has character. The furniture looks like it has a story. Nothing feels overly polished or staged, for that matter.

I don’t want my home to feel like a furniture showroom.

I want it to feel like someone actually lives here.

I love books stacked on shelves. Blankets draped over chairs. My Dodgers coffee mug sitting nearby after a slow morning. Soft lighting instead of bright overhead lights. The kinds of spaces that invite you to curl up with a good book or stay a little longer after dinner because the conversation is too good to leave.

I’ve realized that the things I choose to decorate with almost always tell a story.

The books remind me of the worlds I’ve escaped into.

The travel souvenirs remind me that there’s still so much of the world I want to see.

Even the smallest objects become markers of different chapters in my life.

When I look around my room, I see memories, places I’ve been, and pieces of myself.

Trends come and go, but the things that mean something to us have a way of staying.

If someone walked into your home today, what would they learn about you without you saying a single word?

“The magic thing about home is it feels good to leave, and it feels even better to come back.”— Wendy Wunder