Holding Space

Love and Life with Lisa 🌹 Holding Space A conversation about depression, love, boundaries, and the people who stay 🌿 Gentle Note Before We Begin This post contains a personal reflection on depression, grief, and emotional healing. There are no graphic details, but I speak honestly about pain, loss, and the journey back to myself. If today feels tender, please read gently, pause when needed, or come back when it feels right. You are always allowed to take care of your heart. Come, come — sit with me. Grab yourself a drink, and let’s talk about holding space . This is a conversation about depression, love, boundaries, and the people who stay. I’m going to tell you a story, and I want to be honest with you — it’s an emotional one for me. If my words feel heavy at times, or if you sense tears behind them, it’s because I got to t...
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What Home Really Means


She didn’t ask—she just pulled my throw blanket around her shoulders and let her head rest on my pillow. The baseball game hummed softly in the background, the air still warm with the smell of pizza, and the room felt like it exhaled. In that instant, my house became more than a space. It became trust.

The truth is, very few people have ever sat on that sofa or walked through my front door. My home is a reflection of my heart—peaceful, private, and personal. I protect it the way I protect my spirit. Not everyone is meant to see where my peace lives. When I welcome someone in, it’s because trust already exists—the kind that doesn’t need to prove itself.

“The peace I build inside me becomes the peace others rest in.”

Home is Built, Not Bought

That night reminded me that comfort isn’t bought; it’s built. Home is laughter in the kitchen, quiet moments on the sofa, tea steaming on the coffee table, and the freedom to be yourself without performance. A true home doesn’t try to impress you—it embraces you.

Trust is the Foundation

Home is built on trust—the quiet knowing that you can rest without being watched, speak without being judged, and sit in silence without feeling alone. Maybe trust is the truest furniture of all—unseen, but holding everything together.

The Heart of Home

Between the laughter, the pizza, and the ball game, I understood it—home isn’t where I live; it’s what I give. Peace, warmth, welcome. When those are present, four walls become something holy.

Whisper: Home is peace you can feel without words.

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