I am grateful to live in a beautiful home that I love and cherish.

Very few people live somewhere that would photograph well, and the ones who do often feel little walking in.

What makes a place yours isn't the finish. It's accumulation — the doorframe dented on moving day, the mug that survived three addresses, the exact spot the light hits in October. None of that can be bought or staged. It has to be lived into existence, slowly.

Which means the flat you're mildly disappointed by is probably doing more for you than you credit.

Walk into one room today and find the oldest thing in it. That object is the reason it's home.