Feeling: At Home

A tour of our 700 sq. ft. New York apartment that became my very favorite place in the city.

May 28, 2025

“Does New York feel like home yet?”

”Yes,” I answer quickly and with a smile every time I am asked.

Last May, we did not renew our lease. The little Florida duplex near the lake with the historic pink bathroom tile closed a life chapter with us. Packing every box was a storm of anticipation, dread, sorrow, joy, and nostalgia. We scrubbed the floors, turned in the keys, and said goodbye.

Not renewing our lease was funny because we did not actually have anywhere to live after the lease was over. Our plan, on paper, was a little ambitious.

We would sell most of our furniture and a lot of our stuff. The rest would go in a storage unit. We would travel some. We would stay with friends & family. We wouldn’t have a home base for some months to save all the money we could. And then our next home would be in New York, where we knew no one and nothing. We lived in guest rooms, hotels, and Airbnbs for four months.

Connor went up to the city by himself and toured apartments for us. I sent him with my dream wishlist of amenities and trusted him to find something good.

I wish I could say I was a brave champ about all the change, or at least an ambitious dreamer with some courage. But no. From May 2024 to October 2024, I just kind of closed my eyes and gritted my teeth like I was on a roller coaster. I like order, I like stability, and I like home. Switching from suitcase to suitcase, dropping by the storage unit to pick up something I forgot — it was not my preference. I felt scattered and struggled through the months, failing to grasp onto the Walter-Mittiness of it all and enjoy the ride. I was a bit whiny, honestly. The experience stretched me in big ways I needed to be. Four months bouncing around grew in me a deeper appreciation for “home” and the privilege of having a space that is your own. It was a temporary discomfort, and it was worth it.

The task of finding housing in the city is unlike anything we’ve ever experienced. There is an inside language, fees, waitlists, and deposits we’ve never heard of. When he’d tour an apartment, there were usually multiple other people who also wanted it on the same tour. It was competitive and fast.

In early September, Connor called me and said he had found a great apartment in Brooklyn and was going to put in an application. We got an email back a few days later that it was ours! So we packed up the dog, the cat, and what we had in the storage unit, and started a long drive from Florida to New York City.

I saw my new, empty apartment for the first time on move-in day, and it’s been nine months since then.

I get asked often, “Does New York feel like home yet?”

And I always say yes. Somehow, the city does already feel like my home.

Home is truly wherever Connor is, so it can be anywhere.

Home is where the dog cuddles up and peacefully naps. She stretches out and sighs, and we watch her sleep. Home is where my favorite striped sheets are spread on a bed. It’s where my clothes smell like the detergent I like best. The dishes from my bridal shower are stacked in the cabinet for everyday use. Our photo booth pictures are in a frame. It smells like coffee in the morning, and tea brewing before bed. It is where my books are. (sigh of relief just thinking about books) There are old birthday cards on the fridge. Our niece’s crayon portrait of us is next to them. My favorite soda sits next to his leftovers. The teddy bear of my childhood (named Huggie) is proudly perched in my closet. The boxes of family photos are tucked neatly on a shelf.

Home is special and sacred. Our lives whirl around our homes. They hold us through storms.

When a home is fractured or damaged or removed, we feel it to our core. It can be traumatic in every sense. Some seasons, home doesn’t feel like it used to. It will be sad and amazingly difficult for a while as you adjust. One day, a new home will come forward to embrace you. A new place will feel so much like home that you will breathe a sigh of relief again.

What makes a place feel like home is a little different for everyone. Maybe it’s your objects, a scent, a person, or a pet.

I remember when I moved into my college dorm, with just a tiny desk space and a top bunk to decorate, I cried myself to sleep the first night because I missed my bedroom and home. Bethany Hall felt unfamiliar and cold. But by the end of college, I cried with my roommates because the familiarity of the dorm and the tiny home we made there would be something I’d miss so badly. Home ebbs and flows and changes with us. But some things always make it feel safe, wherever the building may be or however big or small it may be.

YOU bring “home” with you wherever you go. You can make a place feel like home.

I think about students who are heading off to college. How home has just changed. They will have the home they grew up in, but it will feel a little different after their experiences as individuals, and that is okay.

Maybe home was so sweet that you are devastated it’s not the same as it was because of loss, family moving, divorce, crisis, or life moving faster than you hoped. You wish you could go back, but it’s not the same home waiting for you.

Or maybe the home you grew up in was somewhere you wanted to be far away from — it felt more like somewhere to escape.

Either way, one day you will be the grown-up. And you will make your own home. And there is so much to be hopeful about! I mean it! You can create new precious memories, feelings of safety for loved ones (and yourself), and a space that holds you. You can be the one to welcome guests, family, and dear friends. You can combine everything you loved and cherished about your upbringing and treasured memories with new life and love.

I think of our home that Connor and I made together. It is a hodgepodge of us, our families, and our experiences. The music is loud because that’s how my dad played it. My bathroom drawers look just like my mom’s drawers did when I was growing up and used to dig in them to find Clinique makeup to play with. His mom’s favorite magnet lives on our fridge now. Rummikub is always accessible, because we got in the habit of playing it with his family while we stayed with them, waiting for an apartment to open up. My dear friend’s quilt lies across our bed. She gave it to me when I was going through a hard time, because it was full of bright colors. My mom’s favorite tea is on our shelf, ready to drink. My grandparents gifted us a silver frame, which sits on our bookshelf next to a book of all our old love letters from high school. It’s so uniquely ours. And that makes it home.

When we invite someone into our home, it is vulnerable.

Dear readers, I’d like to invite you into mine! Since we moved nine months ago, I’ve shared very little online showing my new home. We’ve been purging, reorganizing, and furnishing it. Home-making is not quite like HGTV, it didn’t come together in a week. It’s a slow burn of gathering, placing, trial & error. It’s a combination of something new, something rare, something inexpensive, something you’ve had forever, something you find, something precious.

Our home is just 700 sq. ft. and has one bedroom, so you will all have to cram in a little, but welcome! It’s a digital apartment tour. Hope you like it! It would be an honor to show you the place that feels like home to me.

The Kitchen

You enter our apartment through the kitchen. To the right is a closet with my city miracle — our own in-unit washer & dryer. (I still cannot believe it!)

Having lived in a historic home with all its quirks (and mold) prior, we were looking for a newer build. Our plan in the city was to be very busy (it worked) with developing new friendships and working hard on our dreams. We wanted home to feel clean, simple, and fresh this season. I am always drawn to historic features, but there is something to celebrate about fresh paint and working appliances. It’s been a season of the house taking care of us, not us taking care of it, and we needed that.

My red grid runner from Revival greets you down the middle. To the left are IKEA consoles that store kitchen tools, hosting supplies, and random backstock of home items. Our espresso machine/coffee bar sits on top. To the right is my kitchen workshop!

big Graza fan — I use olive oil to cook everything!

I fell in love with making food in this apartment. In my experience, having limited resources sometimes brings the most creativity out of me. I was so nervous about the increased cost of living, especially when eating out in the city. So I just absolutely dug into problem-solving. I figured out a way to structure grocery shopping around a weekly menu design that felt more like play than a chore. In the middle of the practice, I just started to fall in love with the creative act of cooking as a hobby. It scratches my project management brain I use at work, while feeling like a creative practice and art. I remember one night I shouted, “WAIT! I have a HOBBY!” to Connor. I love cooking! Who knew.

I tried to link as many of my kitchen items as I could here, but if I missed something in a photo, leave a comment and I will let you know where it came from!

The Living Space

My green dining table traveled from Florida with us because I could not let it go. I am so glad we kept it, because we have been able to host our new friends so many times! It also serves as a desk for work-from-home days.

We backed up the couch to the table to create a natural divide in the room. The focal point is my massive circular mirror from the 80s. I once found it in a thrift store in FL and was obsessed with it. Connor said he had to run some errands and came home with it as a surprise! It is so heavy that if it falls off the wall, both the wall and anyone sitting under it are goners. But look at how beautiful!

We are book collectors, and these white ladder shelves were the perfect minimal displays to let the book designs speak for themselves.

The couch, I affectionately call the croissant couch, is perfect for our space because it takes up very little space and does not collect pet hair. It is cozy and clean, and we love it.

When I knew I’d be concluding time as a classroom teacher and moving into curriculum development — I saw a glass apple at an antique store and grabbed it immediately to mark the close of a sweet, sweet season as a teacher.

I picked up a little neon pink crab tag that an artist inked fish on during Connor’s documentary filming in Sitka, Alaska.

The funky vases on the top shelf were some of the only products I kept from my store before it closed. I sold everything I could and threw away most of the rest — but in the chaos, I grabbed these two vases. They were from a brand I first ordered from when I was opening the store, and full of anticipation and hope.

Connor does not have a ton of relics from his childhood home, but the little lighthouse pillow is one. It is funky enough that it works with our eclectic style.

Here are links to living room furniture/decor. Let me know if I missed anything!

The Bathroom

I viewed the bathroom as a blank space to speckle with funky colors. I love my striped hand towels from Dusen Dusen, especially. Here are the links to all the colorful things.

The Bedroom

An oasis with no closets! We got IKEA wardrobes, and slid the bed in the middle to make a cozy nook. After we added some wallpaper, it felt like a little hotel.

I picked this wallpaper because it reminded me of peace and Psalm 23. I wanted the place we sleep to be as peaceful and light as possible.

A lamp that was handmade by a family friend and gifted to us at our wedding. My maiden name is “Cherry” and he used cherry wood at the core of the lamp as an ode to my upbringing — “that it would also be in me.”

Here are the links to my bedroom decor!

Thank you for stepping inside our little escape from the city. I wish you could meet my dog, and I could make you a London Fog to sip on the croissant couch. I appreciate, wholeheartedly, your readership and support.

Feeling! Magazine reached Bestseller status last week and has remained on the “Rising in Design” list for a few weeks. I am astounded by your comments, kind words, and that you even sit down and read what I write. It was a childhood dream to be a writer, and I am living it. I am quick to bog myself down with “what’s next” or “how do I keep this up?” but I want to acknowledge that I did what I wanted to do when I was a child — I made a magazine. Thank you for making my dream come true.

When we first moved to NY, I had stopped writing on here. I was overwhelmed with the transition and anxious, and creative ideas had stopped flowing. Writing didn’t feel fun, and Substack did not feel rewarding. A month and a half ago, I got the itch to write. My husband encouraged me to make it fun. He knows I’m quick to strategize, but he constantly pushes me to make things that feel joyful. So I did. And it resonated with a lot of people. And I am blown away. Thank you for being here.

I feel inspired and determined to make a space on the internet that reflects deep, forever-kind-of hope and joy. I am so excited to keep writing for you, getting better, and growing a community with such kind and wonderful people here on Substack. Thank you for reading and for coming to see my home today!

XO, Jenna