A Love Letter for Home: Why the Rooms We Live In Matter

Interior design isn’t just about how a space looks—it’s about how it lets us live.

As the year winds down and the calendar flips to January, I always notice the same thing happening—not just with my clients, but with myself. I start thinking about “home”.

Not in a “Should we knock down a wall or paint it?” kind of way (though… yes, maybe later). But in a quieter, more reflective way. I find myself thinking about all the ways our homes served us —where we gathered, where we rested, and where life actually happened over this year.

And that’s what sparked this idea.

What if we treated our homes the way we treat the people we love?
What if we wrote them a love letter?

Ever notice how January tends to get all the credit for fresh starts, but December is where the honesty lives? This is the month where we’re not dreaming yet—we’re remembering. And when I slowed down long enough to notice, my memories kept landing in rooms.

There’s the kitchen where everyone somehow ended up during parties, no matter how thoughtfully the rest of the house was set up. The living room that hosted both loud laughter with friends during Bachelorette watch party nights and very quiet nights resting after a long day of work. The mudroom that caught the mess before it spilled into the rest of the house. (Well, most of it anyway.)

Home becomes the place where the year landed.

And when you really think about it, that makes sense. Our homes aren’t just where we live—they’re where our lives unfold, one ordinary moment at a time.

When I say “a love letter for home,” I don’t mean anything overly poetic or precious. I mean noticing. Noticing the rooms that show up for us without fanfare, without being perfectly finished or polished. Noticing the spaces that work hard, quietly, every single day. Noticing that design isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence.

Because the most meaningful rooms are rarely the most styled ones. They’re the most used ones.

So here’s mine:

Dear Home,

You were designed to be shelter.
Four walls. A roof. A place to land.

But you’ve become the keeper of so much more.

You’re where mornings begin—sometimes quietly, sometimes late, sometimes (ok, often) already running behind. You’re where evenings soften, where shoes (and let’s face it…the bra too) come off, where the day exhales. You’re where groceries get dropped before dinner plans, where laughter spills unexpectedly, where silence is allowed to stay as long as it needs.

You’ve held busy seasons and slow ones. Loud gatherings and very private moments. You’ve seen celebrations, disappointments, routines that carried me, and transitions I didn’t plan for.

You’ve adapted as life has changed too—furniture moved, habits shifted, priorities rearranged. You never asked for perfection. You just made room.

You hold the chaos so I don’t have to.
You catch what falls through the cracks of the day.
You steady things—quietly, faithfully—without needing attention.

Honestly? That’s no small thing.

So thank you for being the place I return to, over and over again.
For holding my life exactly as it is.
For letting me live here—fully, imperfectly, and at home.

-XO

Now, stay with me because this is where my designer heart really kicks in…

Because a well-designed home anticipates moments you don’t even realize you’re having. It knows where you’ll drop your keys before you do. It understands that mornings are rushed and evenings are sacred. It supports your life instead of asking you to tiptoe around it. (This is why our new client questionnaire is so important- it helps us get to know you, and what you need in a home.)

That’s why I believe good interior design isn’t about chasing trends or creating rooms that look untouched. It’s about creating spaces that work beautifully for real life. Messy, meaningful, everyday life.

And as January starts—with all its pressure for new goals, new plans, new everything—I can’t help but think that maybe this season isn’t about overhauling our homes. Maybe it’s about inhabiting them more fully.

Noticing what already works. Understanding where friction exists. Letting your home tell you what it needs next—rather than forcing a full reset before the coffee’s even brewed. (We can save the renovation spreadsheets for February.)

So here’s a simple invitation, if you’re up for it: choose one room in your home and write it a short love letter. You don’t need fancy words. Just honesty. Ask yourself what actually happens there, what routine it supports, and what moment from this past year stands out.

You might be surprised how much clarity—and gratitude—comes from paying attention to the spaces that quietly hold you. Maybe you even recognize some pain points, or frustrations. And that’s ok too. Home, can be a work in progress too.

At Lennox Road Interiors, we don’t just design rooms—we design for your everyday living. For homes that feel thoughtful, functional, and deeply personal. For spaces that support your routines, your gatherings, and your quiet moments. For homes that feel like they were designed for you—because they were.

And until you’re ready for that next step (don’t worry, we aren’t going anywhere), maybe start with a love letter.

Your home’s been writing one to you all along.