Home isn't a place. It’s a feeling. You’ve probably heard that a thousand times on decorative pillows or Pinterest boards, but lately, the phrase I call it home has taken on a much grittier, more literal meaning in our hyper-mobile world. We are living through a massive shift in how humans attach themselves to geography.
It’s weird.
Ten years ago, "home" was where your mortgage lived. Today? It might be a converted Sprinter van parked in a Moab trailhead, a co-living space in Medellín, or a tiny apartment in a city you only plan to stay in for six months. When someone says, "I call it home," they aren't just giving you an address. They are making a claim about their identity.
The Psychology Behind Saying I Call It Home
Why do we say it? Honestly, it’s a survival mechanism.
👉 See also: Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream: Why This Specific Chip Has a Total Stranglehold on Snack Culture
Psychologists like Dr. Susan Clayton, who studies environmental psychology, suggest that our sense of self is deeply tied to our physical surroundings. When we say I call it home, we are performing an act of "place-making." This isn't just about furniture. It's about the neurobiology of belonging. Your brain actually maps your environment; when you become familiar with a space, your hippocampal activity changes. The "stress" of a new environment fades, replaced by the "safety" of the known.
I talked to a digital nomad last year who had moved fifteen times in three years. She told me that the moment she puts her specific travel candle on a bedside table, she says the words out loud. "I call it home."
It’s a ritual.
It’s about reclaiming agency in a world that feels increasingly temporary. We are seeing a decline in traditional homeownership—not just because of interest rates, though those are a nightmare—but because the definition of "permanent" has eroded. If you can't own the dirt, you own the experience of the space.
Architecture and the Micro-Home Movement
The physical structures we inhabit are shrinking, yet our emotional investment in them is arguably higher than ever. Look at the "Tiny House" phenomenon. It’s not just about being cheap. It’s a middle finger to the McMansion era of the early 2000s.
When someone moves into a 200-square-foot box and tells their friends I call it home, they are usually prioritizing freedom over square footage.
- Customization is king. In these small spaces, every inch is intentional.
- Sustainability matters. There is a direct link between "home" and "stewardship."
- The "Third Place" is back. Because the home is small, the neighborhood (the coffee shop, the park) becomes the living room.
But there’s a flip side. For many, saying I call it home is an act of defiance against housing insecurity. In cities like Los Angeles or London, people are reclaiming non-traditional spaces—warehouses, garage conversions, even long-term stays in residential hotels. Here, the phrase is a shield. It’s a way of asserting dignity in a market that treats shelter as a luxury commodity rather than a human right.
Why We Get It Wrong About "Belonging"
Most people think you need time to call a place home. You don't.
There’s this concept called "thin places"—locations where the distance between the self and the world feels porous. Sometimes you walk into a city you’ve never visited, smell the air, see the way the light hits the brickwork, and you just know. You think, yeah, I call it home. It’s immediate.
Sociologists call this "elective belonging." It’s the idea that we choose our tribes and our territories based on values rather than birthright. This is a huge shift from the 20th-century model where you stayed where you were born. Now, we shop for homes like we shop for clothes. Does this city fit my personality? Does this neighborhood reflect my politics?
The Digital "Home" and the Meta Problem
We have to talk about the internet.
For a huge chunk of the population, "home" isn't even physical anymore. It’s a Discord server. It’s a Minecraft world. It’s a specific corner of a social media platform where the community is more real than the neighbors next door. When a gamer says I call it home regarding a virtual space, they aren't joking.
The emotional resonance is identical.
The brain doesn't always distinguish between the oxytocin hit of a physical hug and the hit of a deep, meaningful digital interaction. This creates a strange "bifurcated" existence. You might live in a drab apartment in a city you hate, but your heart is "at home" in a digital collective. Is that healthy? The jury is still out. Some researchers argue it leads to profound loneliness in the "real" world, while others suggest it’s a vital lifeline for marginalized groups who don't feel safe in their physical zip codes.
How to Actually "Home" a Space
If you’re struggling to feel settled, whether you’ve just moved or you’ve been in the same spot for years and it still feels like a hotel room, you need to change your tactics.
Stop buying "stuff."
🔗 Read more: Finding the Right Undergarment for See Through Dress Outfits: What Actually Works
Start creating "anchors." An anchor is a sensory trigger that signals safety to your nervous system.
- Scent is the fastest shortcut. The olfactory bulb is right next to the amygdala. Use the same scent in every place you live, and your brain will click into "home mode" instantly.
- Edit the lighting. Overhead "big lights" are the enemy of belonging. They create a sterile, clinical environment. Use lamps with warm bulbs (2700K).
- The "One Drawer" Rule. Even if you are living out of a suitcase, dedicate one drawer or shelf to things that have zero "utility" but high "meaning."
When you finally say I call it home, it should feel like a sigh of relief. It’s the moment the "flight or fight" response finally settles down.
The Future of Belonging
As we look toward 2026 and beyond, the phrase I call it home will likely become even more untethered from real estate. We are seeing the rise of "subscription living" and nomadic visas. The "home" of the future is modular. It’s a set of values and a few key objects that move with us.
It’s also about the climate.
As certain areas become less habitable, our definition of home will have to become more resilient. We will have to learn how to "home" ourselves in new climates and new communities faster than ever before. This isn't just a lifestyle choice; it's a future necessity.
Actionable Steps for Finding Your "Home"
- Audit your "Third Places": If your house feels lonely, find a library, a park, or a pub where the staff knows your name. Home is a network, not a box.
- Invest in "Portable History": Keep small heirlooms or photos that can be set up in under five minutes.
- Practice "Micro-Mapping": Walk the same three-block radius every day for a week. Learn where the cracks in the sidewalk are. Learn which neighbor has the grumpy cat.
- Check your language: Stop saying "my apartment" or "the house." Start using the word "home" intentionally. Language shapes reality.
Belonging is a verb. It’s something you do, not something you find. Whether you’re in a high-rise in Tokyo or a cabin in the Catskills, the power to claim a space is yours. Own it.