Home sweet home

Today I want to talk to you about home.

Since the dawn of time, home has been a powerful symbol for human beings.

Since prehistoric times, humans have always sought protection, refuge, a place where they could feel safe. An intimate space, to be shared only with trusted and loved ones. A space that signified an “inside,” distinct from the “outside,” which, though full of opportunities, also carried risks and dangers.

Today, that “outside” has turned into a giant decoy. A constant projection of collective desires, much like advertising that draws our attention toward something that seems absolutely essential, something we’re made to believe we need in order to feel whole and at peace with ourselves and the world.

But is that really the case?

In the next few lines, I want to take you into a reflection that, along my personal and professional journey, has taken increasingly clearer shape.

Those so-called objects of desire are often pursued to gain status in the social hierarchy. Symbols of wealth, power, safety, and stability.

One of these symbols is owning a home.

In my work, my mission, through personal development sessions and helping relationships, I’ve met many people who believed that owning a house was the true measure of self-worth. As though those who don’t own property were seen by society as unfortunate or inferior.

I’ve supported men and women who remained stuck in toxic relationships simply because they had bought a home together, often still under mortgage.

This phenomenon has a name: sunk costs.

It refers to everything we’ve invested, emotionally or financially, that keeps us anchored in situations that no longer serve us.

I often hear phrases like:"After everything I’ve sacrificed to buy this house… I can’t lose it!"

Today, my long personal experience, combined with my mission of helping others, leads me to believe that many people have lost sight of, or perhaps never even discovered, the other house.

The invisible but essential one: the inner home.

Over the years, I’ve seen just how often that home is neglected, even forgotten.

When someone comes to me expressing personal, relational, or existential discomfort, it becomes very clear in most cases: their inner home is in disarray, empty, or abandoned.

In those moments I say:"You’ve been away from home for too long."

And when they look at me confused, I explain:"I’m talking about your inner home."

Every time we search outside ourselves for the things we feel we lack, trying to heal emotional wounds, numb pain or trauma that has deeply scarred us, we’re stepping further away from that home. And with every step, we lose connection. That distance manifests as confusion, instability, and disorientation:

"I don’t recognize myself anymore."

"I don’t know who I am."

"I feel empty."

"I have no motivation."

If I asked in that moment:"What does your inner home look like? How many rooms does it have? Which one do you love most, the one where you find peace, joy, and rest?"

Most of the time, there’s no answer. As if they’ve lost the address.

You cannot feel truly well if your inner home is abandoned while all your energy is focused outward.

An inner home that’s been neglected, furnished hastily with things that seemed necessary, without personality, often filled with items left by others: judgments, expectations, unresolved trauma… things that were never returned to their rightful owners.

That home becomes dark, dusty, chaotic. Many come in and out, leaving traces, mess, rearranging things.

And we? We feel like guests in our own home, one we’ve sublet to others.

Reconnecting with our authentic self is like finally returning home. Opening the door, throwing open the windows, letting light and fresh air in. Looking around and recognizing the rooms, deciding how to live in them, where to knock down a wall to expand space and light, and where to create corners of peace and beauty.

To inhabit a home is not the same as merely living in it.

A body can fill space, but only authentic presence gives it meaning.

Sometimes we walk into magnificent houses, perfect, like those in magazines, but they feel cold, empty. Other times, we enter simple homes, yet warm and inviting, where the energy of those who truly live there can be felt.

The same goes for our inner home.

To inhabit it means choosing to take it out of the magazine spread and fill it with the experiences that paint the walls and fill the rooms with memories, both the treasured ones and those that have shaped who we are.

Only then does it truly become ours. Only then can it truly protect us and grow with us.

In this home, we can find refuge and rest, feel comfortable, happy, and fulfilled. This is truly our home, and no law nor any detractor will ever be able to take it away from us.

One day, I was on a flight from Milan to Tenerife, returning from a trip to visit my family.

During landing, a thought crossed my mind:"I’m going home."

But then came the question:"Home? What is home, Milan or Tenerife?"

For a brief moment, I was overtaken by doubt. I had only a few minutes before touchdown.

I had to decide where “home” truly was.

If the answer had been Tenerife, fine. But if it had been Milan, or more precisely, Tradate, a small town in the province of Varese, then I had a problem.

And just as the plane touched down, the answer came clear, deep, and final:

Home is where I feel good. Where love and harmony reign within, and as a reflection, without.

Home is me.

Welcome home!

It took years of dedication, care, and love to furnish my inner home.

Today, it’s the most beautiful and welcoming place in the world for me, and those who enter often tell me they feel the same.

And you? What’s your inner home like? If you feel the need to return home, or to renovate it, know that I can help.

Not as an interior designer, but as an architect of the soul, so that you too may feel you are living in the most luxurious and precious home in the world: yourself.

With Love.

Laura Monza