A Body to Call Home

Finding and Fostering Solace, Safety, and Self

Photo credit: Inge Poelman

This past week—and the preceding month, too, if I’m being honest—has been a bit hectic and bittersweet. A series of life changes included both a major promotion at work and saying a very sorrowful goodbye to our spacious top-floor apartment and its private rooftop deck which had become an important part of my weekend routine. I would spend hours every Saturday and Sunday up there in the nude, watering and trimming the plants, sweeping up any debris and dust that had blown in during the week, and then lying in the sunshine with a book and an iced coffee or a cold beer, looking out over the red-tile rooftops, the swaying palm trees, and the Hollywood Hills. It was not a routine I took for granted, but one I cherished and looked forward to every week, eager to catch some rays and care for the space. I have been exceptionally fortunate to have had access to such a space at all, a real clothes-free oasis in the middle of the city.

Like all good things, the era of naked weekends spent on my own private rooftop has come to an end and I’ve settled into a new apartment that’s smaller and cozier but that lacks any real private outdoor space. The whole transition has had me in my feelings, processing changes, mourning something I loved, but also pressed to turn our new place into something that feels like home and ruminating on that blend of emotions. This relationship we have to our homes—however makeshift or stable, permanent or temporary, large or small they may be—reminded me a great deal of our relationship to our body. Like our body, our home is perhaps not always the one we wanted, not always able to suit all of our needs, not always in the shape we would like, but it is the one we have and the one we must make our own and get comfortable living in.

Remembering the rooftop oasis that I left behind

I imagine most of us have had feelings of envy over the bodies we see in magazines, on Instagram, in movies, or on TV. They’re bodies that were hand-picked and hand-crafted to be pleasing to the eye, and it can make us feel like the body we have is the wrong one, that it’s not sufficient or that life would be so much better if our body looked more like that one. If I’m honest, I also often have very similar feelings about the homes and apartments I see in magazines like Architectural Digest, on house-hunting reality TV, or on Pinterest: They’re multimillion-dollar dwellings where multimillionaires live out their days in what looks like comfort and stability and serenity. Heck, I’d even settle for much less, but what I’m trying so say is that I get body envy and home envy. As much as we can all appreciate them from afar, most of us don’t have those bodies or live in those homes, but that shouldn’t stop us from living our lives peacefully, making ourselves comfortable, or expressing ourselves through our bodies and environments. And perhaps looking at our body from this perspective might help us find ways to both appreciate the body we have and care for it in the ways it deserves, tending it, mending it, enjoying it, and making it unique to us in the ways that we would do for our homes.

Home/Body

If we start the tour of the home/body in the garden, there is a lawn to mow and bushes to trim… though we may sometimes forget to do so or may let them get out of control, sometimes through neglect and sometimes on purpose. Maybe we like the grass and the shrubbery that way, a little more on the natural side, a little less kempt. Maybe that feels like home to us. Or maybe our time and energy is being spent elsewhere and we can’t prioritize tending these external, superficial features. There are plants to water, flowers to watch sprout and bloom and die and sprout again. Just as the garden cycles through its seasons, so do our bodies go through their own cycles and seasons, ups and downs. While our effort doesn’t guarantee fruit or flora, it does keep us in touch with the nature of the body and its needs, and tending it can give us a sense of control and ownership.

On the surface of the home there is siding and trim, windows and doors, a roof and some paint to make it feel like home. All of these things look more or less lovely brand new, but as they age require maintenance, sanding, washing, replacement, or a fresh coat of paint to suit the changing trends, to suit our changing tastes, or just to keep ourselves safe from the harsh environment, the beating sun, and the ravages of time. Some of them may even look better, more lived-in, more refined as time passes. But as the windows fog up with age or become cracked, we may need new glass, and as the doors begin to creak and squeal, they may need some grease or new joints. If the siding starts to show damage—which it inevitably will—it may need some inspecting, some patching, some stitching. As the trim comes loose, it may be time for something new, something different, a different color or material, a different statement altogether. The outside may not say much about what’s on the inside, but maintaining it can help the whole thing last longer and decorating it the way we like can help it feel more like an extension of ourselves, making us feel more at home.

The structure, the beams and joists and foundation make up much of the home and need our attention, too. They may be hidden behind the drywall and siding and everything that we use to dress up our environment, but they are just as susceptible to age and decay as all the other parts. They’re much harder to keep an eye on and much harder to care for, however, and can turn everything in our life upside down if we do have to fix them, replace them, or lose them. When it comes to the plumbing and wiring, things we expect to simply do their job as expected, we often find they just don’t. The faucets don’t work, something is leaking, something is clogged or backed up or running dry. All fixable, if somewhat painful, but make life all the easier when everything runs smoothly. The electrical brains of the home may need our attention as well, if signals just aren’t firing correctly, if a fuse is blown or an outlet loses power or something is just wired backwards and needs a remedy. We will all need to check our circuits at some point, and there’s no shame in not having all the answers or needing the steady hands of a professional.

No Body Like Home

All of these aspects of the home and body are important, but none of them get to the comfort and security we feel like the heart and soul of the home, its interior spaces and the energy that it holds. The people and things that we welcome inside, for example, and the attitudes and behaviors we foster there are what seems to make a place most feel like home. Are we spending our time filling the space with grace and gratitude, or anger or resentment? Are we welcoming people in who build us up or tear us down? Are we warming our home with acceptance and curiosity for ourselves and others, or are we chilling it with suspicion and fear of the outside? Are we treating ourselves with kindness in this space? It sounds touchy-feely, I admit, but the traditions and connections and memories that happen in a home are a large part of what make it feel like home, just as the joys and friendships and pleasures that happen in the body make it feel like our own.

All of this, though, admittedly oversimplifies our relationship to our body. Sometimes home doesn’t feel like home and sometimes our body just doesn’t feel like our body. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like who we are inside, and sometimes it feels like it never will. Sometimes a terrible accident, an invasion or violation, or a history of traumatic experiences can rip away the feeling of joy and comfort associated with the home just as it can the body, stripping us of a sense of safety and comfort and self. Sometimes it feels like there’s not much we can do to remedy that disconnect, if it’s out of our control, or if we don’t have access to the people and professionals who can help. There are, I have found, a great many resources available for those longing to feel safe in their body after trauma or other hardships. If that’s you, please seek expert resources and tools. I’m not sure if thinking of the body through this domestic lens is at all helpful in finding a way back to feeling at home in our skin, but I am hopeful that maybe it offers a unique perspective on that path.

As imperfect metaphors go, not everything here aligns. We don’t get to choose our bodies, and we can’t simply move into a new one we like better like we can with homes. The body is not a temporary situation and, unlike bodies, not everyone is fortunate enough to enjoy the four walls and comfort of a home at all. We’re stuck with the one body we get, but we do all get one, imperfect as it may be. Whether we like it or not, whether it feels like us or not, it is ours forever, which means it’s all the more important that we care for the body we have, augment it, decorate it, and enhance it however we please, and treat it like the permanent home it is, making it a reflection of who we are on the inside but also finding comfort in it and appreciating what is already is. This permanence makes it all the more important to not judge others based on their body, on what they do with it, on the trimmings they add to it and the behaviors they practice in it that make them feel safe, comfortable, and at home in their skin. I think we are all better off supporting one another in our individual pursuits of creating a homey home and fostering a homey body.

Moving On

As for me and my move, I’ve spent the past week working vigorously to tidy our new space, arrange the memories that we keep on our shelves and walls, and make it feel like home. Which it still doesn’t quite… it’s just not quite there, but it’s coming along. We’ll welcome in some old friends and hopefully some new ones. We’ll make some good memories and I’m sure some bad ones, too. I’ll make some space to enjoy the things I love… to read, to write, to watch old movies, to have a naked morning coffee, or to wrap up in a favorite sweater. I’ll be thinking a lot about these home/body comparisons as I proceed and will be making an effort to take care of both as I settle in… as unsettled as everything feels right now. Maybe that’s something you can relate to as well and, if so, hopefully this piece will be meaningful as you ponder what "home” means to you.

OK, back to hanging shelves. And not even naked!