A Love Letter to the Life I Used to Downplay

For a long time, I minimized the life I was actually living.

Especially as a homebody.

When people would ask,
“What did you do this weekend?”

I would automatically respond:
“Oh… nothing.”

But the truth was,
I was doing a lot.

I just wasn’t doing the kind of things society tends to glorify.

I wasn’t constantly outside.
I wasn’t chasing packed schedules.
I wasn’t forcing myself into environments that drained me just so my life looked exciting to other people.

Instead, I was creating peace.

And honestly?
That changed my life.

I used to think staying home meant I was boring.
That I wasn’t “living enough.”
That people were secretly judging me for enjoying quietness.

But eventually, I stopped letting other people’s definitions of a fulfilling life shape mine.

Because my weekends started feeling intentional.

Not survived.

Lived.

Now when I think about a beautiful weekend, it looks like this:

Walking through a peaceful park for an hour while listening to music or my thoughts.

Getting dressed up just for myself and having a little girl therapy:
my eyebrows done,
a facial,
fresh nails,
soft feet.

Taking my daughter out to lunch and being fully present.

Cleaning my home slowly until it smells like lavender and comfort.

Going to dinner with someone I enjoy being around.

Coming home,
taking a eucalyptus shower,
putting on chamomile lavender magnesium body butter,
making tea,
watching a comforting movie,
and sleeping deeply.

And somehow…
that used to count as “nothing.”

Now I realize it was actually a life.

A soft one.
A peaceful one.
A present one.

I think a lot of us were conditioned to believe life only counts when it’s loud, fast, social, expensive, or externally impressive.

But some of the most healing moments of my life have happened quietly at home.

Vlogging small moments.
Taking pictures.
Trying recipes.
Writing blogs.
Lighting candles.
Rearranging a room.
Laughing with my daughter.
Listening to the rain.

These moments may not look important online.
But they feel important to me.

And that’s what matters now.

I no longer measure my weekends by how busy they looked.

I measure them by how deeply I experienced them.

Did I feel calm?
Did I feel connected?
Did I feel rested?
Did I create memories?
Did I enjoy my actual life?

If the answer is yes,
then that was never “nothing.”

That was living.