I promised myself I wouldn’t write about it anymore, as everyone seems to love to declutter but me! But because I write to help remove the shame around how our homes look and how we live in them, I couldn’t not.

To be fair, clutter itself isn’t the real problem for me; it’s the negativity and confusion attached to it. I’m not sure everyone could agree on what ‘clutter’ really means, but we’ve been conditioned to believe that having it in your home is not a good thing, that you’re somehow failing.

So while the world continues its obsession with clutter, a billion-dollar industry continuing to target and shame women to sell us organisational systems we don’t need, I will continue dispelling the myth that decluttering is the answer to domestic bliss and a calm nervous system.

Last week I posted a note about a very, very popular interior influencer and his decluttering advice: The Cantaloupe Rule - home decor gospel / simple decluttering.

“Fewer larger things. Nothing smaller than a cantaloupe. If your home looks cluttered, this is why. Little objects generally read as clutter. Large objects read as more intentional. Cantaloupe-sized or bigger looks considered. But anything smaller turns into visual noise. If you love the small stuff, you can group it all on a tray so it reads as one thing.”

Below is his example of how to group small things. Please don’t laugh; I do think he was trying to help.

I looked around my home and thought if he ever popped in for a cup of tea, he’d be very disappointed. Some of my favourite things are the size; if we keep food as the context, an egg, and not even a large one.

I immediately commented:

“Is this rage bait?”

It then confirmed for me something that I’ve always thought: the word "clutter" is nonsense can mean something completely different to different people, as the image the v.v. popular influencer shared to prove his point that a cluttered home was bad; I thought looked lovely. See below:

So what the hell is classed as clutter? I asked the ‘internet’ what clutter was. It took quite a few prompts to stop it telling me how bad clutter was, that it’s postponed decisions and could affect my mental health. I pushed harder for a neutral answer without any negative bias, and this is how it described clutter:

It’s no wonder that this sparked a million-dollar industry. If that description alone doesn’t scream “you need more plastic storage containers,” I don’t know what does.

If we now look at the image of the ‘bad clutter’ above and ask whether they are postponed decisions, or are those small ornaments filling the shelves above their intended capacity? The answer is no. Everything looks intended and fits perfectly. The v. v popular influencer obviously just doesn’t like small ornaments, and that is fine, but don’t hate on the people who do.

Having items small or large on show because you love them is not clutter. You just like having your things around you.

Now we understand the true meaning of clutter is too much stuff to put away. There is only one true answer to solve it- cut clutter off at the source and don’t buy more than you need. Simple. The problem really isn’t clutter; it’s overconsumption.

It’s been sixteen years since Marie Kondo’s first decluttering book was released, and things haven’t changed that much, which makes me wonder if decluttering even works. Rather than encourage us to buy less, the industry continues to confuse and shame us into thinking that our homes should be cleaner than humanly possible, and that having belongings is bad unless they are organised away and labelled. This isn’t inner peace; this is pressure.

I try to manage my home as simply as possible, and if I don’t have time to clean or tidy because I have something far more fun to do, I do it guilt-free. There is way more to life than a tidy home.

I get sad when I hear anyone say they are embarrassed of their home. Feeling ashamed and judged into thinking how they live is wrong. We all deserve to love our home, and everything we own, however that looks for you. Because believe me, there is someone out there who would love to live in your messy home surrounded by your cluttered belongings.

Own how you live. If you love a clearer home with large ornaments, I love that for you. But the point is to never feel bad for having what you love in your home, big or small, organised or running wild, and never shame someone else for living in their home differently to you. It really is none of anyone’s business how we choose to live.

I love a reframe. What if we thought of clutter completely differently? Not as piles of shoes, not unhung coats, not random chargers, but something more positive.

If we saw everything we own as a visual autobiography, every object as evidence of the life we’ve lived, we would view our belongings completely differently. They wouldn’t be clutter; they would be little glimpses of us.

What if the question “What does your clutter say about you?” was asked more curiously? The answers could be lovely.

We could share our idiosyncrasies through our things, letting them tell the unedited version of our history, our passions and what comforts us. The insight into why you love boats, or where the tiny collection of shells came from or why you have blue ducks on your fireplace.

It might also help reduce what we bring into our homes. Every time we’re tempted to buy something, we can ask: Does this share something about who I am or someone else’s identity? The answers will help separate a genuine purchase from an influenced one.

Your home should share your story, not someone else’s.

Be proud of your stack of cookery books. The mountain of papers and tubs of paint brushes. The weird ornaments, messy desks and cupboards; be proud of all of your clutter.

I love my clutter. Admittedly, it took me a while to get here and embrace my visual autobiography, because I was conditioned to think it was bad. Giving away gifts, whether I liked them or not, because they didn’t fit my scandi minimalist vibe. Hiding kids’ artwork because they were messy or purging belongings frequently, so that I needed to rebuy what I’d chucked away.

When I started to see clutter as evidence of my life and my family's, and not a mess or a problem, things changed. I am now proud of my clutter. The bowl of lip balms, earrings, keys, glasses, sunglasses. Piles of current and favourite reads, half-made Lego, hair clips, headphones and my collection of birds the size of eggs.

If this is clutter, I am happy. It reminds me that I am a human, present in my messy, happy, sometimes difficult life. I refuse to be shamed into hiding it.

Feeling bad about our homes is so unproductive and unnecessary. Take joy in the chaos our lives bring and never, ever apologise for it or worry about the standard someone else has set for your home.

What does your clutter say about you? That you love gardening, vintage handbags, coins, crocheting, postcards…

And next time you’re thinking of buying something for your home, be curious about what it will share about you.

Thank you for reading!

Claire x

P.S

If you find managing your home too overwhelming or you buy excessively, please reach out and ask for support. Yes, decluttering might help postpone those horrible feelings for a short period, but believe me, they will be back and you don’t deserve to feel that way.

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Painting and wallpapering are also really time-consuming, the prepping! - insert eye-roll! And I do wonder how long before the gorgeous image on Little Greene’s email below will start to look dated.

What if, rather than ways to brighten the mood of our home, we concentrate on brightening the mood in our home… for free!

Sometimes we think buying something will help us feel happier, but the science of happiness is surprisingly simple and free. Sunlight, movement, laughter, and connection. These things don't just improve our mood; they help regulate our nervous system, too. And when our nervous system feels safe, we feel better.

Whatever type of music you love, stick it on. A favourite song, one that makes you smile and brings back a happy memory. I love that TikTok - yes, I did write that- is introducing the younger generation to older music. When a 90’s, 00’s or even an older track comes on, and my daughters know the words, I love it. Their music catalogue is far wider than mine was growing up. Sade, Fiona Apple, Otis Redding, “How do you know this?” “TikTok”

Dancing is one of my favourite things, the more choreographed the better. If I had my time again, I’d be a backing dancer for sure. But for now, to help increase my endorphins and dopamine, the kitchen is my dancefloor. I love YouTube dance tutorials. This is a good one ⤵ as Caleb says at the end, “You have saved the town and your mental health!” Brilliant.

Along with a love of dancing, laughing is up there too. From a giggle to a crying oh god I might wet myself type. Laughter reduces cortisol and increases feel-good chemicals, so settle in for a night on the sofa and watch something funny. There’s plenty of stand-up comedy specials on Netflix, Kevin Hart, Ali Wong or brilliant british comedians in LOL: Last One Laughing UK on prime. The first series is better than the second and very funny. Hacks, and Four Seasons made me laugh and if you fancy a film, Bridesmaids will always create a big one… the wedding dress scene!

Human connection is one of the strongest mood boosters we can have. It doesn’t have to mean a house full of people, or something big and planned, but simple moments instead. Calling a friend, even stopping and chatting to a neighbour can boost our mood, reduce stress and remind us that we're not alone.

Even a hug does more than we realise. Around 6–10 seconds, is thought to be long enough for the body to begin releasing oxytocin and for stress levels to start decreasing. And 20 seconds or more has stronger effects on relaxation, bonding, and nervous system regulation.

And connection doesn't have to be human to boost your mood. A dog snoozing at your feet, a cat purring on your lap, or stroking a pet can help calm the nervous system and create a sense of comfort and belonging.

If you’re bored of your home, and budget doesn’t allow for anything new, change what you see. Play with layout and swap furniture around. Move art and change photographs. Even switching lamps between rooms, will change the way the light falls and make the room look different.

Make sure the curtains and blinds are open wide to let in as much light as possible. If you live outside the UK, you might actually have some sun, and you’ll be able to open your windows and let the sun in rather than the rain and hail we are blessed with at the moment. If you’re lucky enough to have a view of greenery even better for lowering stress and a greater sense of positivity and calm.

Ultimately, a joyful home isn't defined by what you own, but by how you feel within it. We don’t always need to spend money to feel joy, a favourite song, a dance around the kitchen, a good laugh, a long hug, a chat with a friend, even seeing your home from a different perspective will do.

Thank you for reading! Please press ♥️ and subscribe if you haven’t already. If you have any suggestions for funny films, or comedians I’d love to hear.

Have fun.

Claire. X

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Pushing “less is more,” which leaves anyone who loves more, or can’t or doesn’t want less, in a place where guilt and shame thrive. It’s unfair as everyone is different, with different circumstances, and different tastes.

My home looks human, and pet appropriate as four people and two animals live there. I feel free to enjoy my life without thinking less of myself if I haven’t wiped the worktops before bed or if my wardrobe doesn’t look like a high-end clothes store.

I keep it my version of clean and tidy, I don’t stress, feel anxious or have expectations attached to my home. I am happy with how my face, body, and home look. Not everyone is, and I’m sorry about that. We all deserve to feel happy in ourselves and our homes. If you’re on the search for a similar inner peace and freedom, read on.

#1. Choose your tidying advice wisely.

Most decluttering and organising advice is well-meaning, but not always accurate, trauma-informed or for real lives. There’s a difference between tidying tips and actually understanding the person who needs to tidy.

I’ve helped many clients and friends whose relationships with their homes are complicated. People with hoarding tendencies who feel embarrassed that their home doesn’t match the ideal. People who have experienced trauma, and managing their home isn’t possible or a priority. People who clean compulsively but still can’t relax. People living with illness, where cleaning and tidying take an enormous physical and emotional toll. And neurodivergent people with a deep emotional attachment to their belongings. They were all different, and no single system would work for all of them; they all needed something different.

I haven’t found any evidence that Marie Kondo consulted a psychologist or therapist before writing her best-selling book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. And I can’t help wondering, if she had, would the decluttering movement look different? A one-size-fits-all method is far easier to market than a nuanced, person-first approach.

It’s worth checking whether the advice you’re following is sharing the full picture, or just the part that makes their method look right. Some favourites worth questioning:

Decluttering releases endorphins -So does a hug, a walk, or a conversation.

Spending time in a clutter-free space improves productivity, focus and mood — Yes, for some people. But plenty of highly functional, brilliant people work best in a ‘messy’ environment.

Sleeping in an uncluttered room leads to fewer sleep problems - A regulated nervous system is where good sleep starts. Tidying the room without addressing what’s driving the dysregulation won’t solve the problem.

Kids thrive on fewer toys - Hans Mogel, a psychology professor, put it plainly: “This is a form of child abuse. Deprivation comes at the expense of feeling secure and developing a healthy self-esteem.” And some suggest that minimalist playrooms are driven by the adult’s desire for a calm, aesthetic home. There’s an argument for both sides, but only you know your child and what is right for them, not a stranger.

Decluttering supports your nervous system -Yes, your environment and nervous system are connected, but it works both ways, not in one direction. The calm you feel after decluttering is often relief, a temporary sense of control over your environment. These feelings will be short-lived if nothing else changes. The post below is from an Instagram influencer who has over 100k followers. This misinformation can be confusing about what you believe. To be clear, your home is not your nervous system. Your body doesn’t decide safety based on furniture or clutter alone; it responds to a much wider picture.

A UCLA report found that women with cluttered homes had higher levels of cortisol -Yes, this was true, but I found the report from 2010 to be mainly about shared responsibility for the home’s chores. “Women described their home environments as demanding and stressful and sometimes opted for longer workdays because they felt overwhelmed by obligations awaiting them at home.” “When coming home from work means noticing piles of clutter or a long list of to-do projects, it is perhaps no surprise that cortisol levels fail to decline.” The problem appears to be more about relationships, expectations, and communication rather than clutter.

Understand your own needs and the needs of the people you live with, then be selective about what advice you follow and what you ignore.

#2. Set your own home standards, not follow someone else’s.

Not everyone wants a minimal home, yet most books, Instagram influencers, home makeover shows, and countless decluttering strategies assume that everyone is working towards that same organised and sparse goal. And if we don’t want that for our home, it can make us feel we’re doing something wrong.

Hoarding is widely seen as a problem. Yet the standard the decluttering industry celebrates often sits at the opposite end of the same scale. The immaculate homes you see across social media aren’t always what they seem. The need to clean, tidy and purge can be driven by something deeper, possibly compulsive decluttering or obsessive-compulsive spartanism, which is rarely questioned but often praised as it looks ‘good’, and aspirational. One influencer proudly shares: “I might have issues, but at least whatever is wrong with me keeps the house clean and decluttered AF.” This doesn’t feel the healthiest standard to follow.

Search #decluttering on Instagram and you’ll find hundreds of accounts, mostly women aimed at women, giving guilt-laced advice and declaring they’ve never felt happier as they obsessively clean, organise, and purge.

In reality, a clutter-free home takes far more effort than they’re letting you in on, and most likely, some careful hiding editing, or throwing away half of their possessions had to happen to look like that.

Set your own standards that work for you and your home life. What you can manage and what feels good to you. Not someone else’s.

#3. Understand that decluttering is an action, not a solution for your life’s problems.

You’ve probably come across the promise that if you finally organise your cupboards, throw away the old chargers, and reduce what you own, everything is going to fall into place. Your anxiety will vanish. Your relationships will blossom. You’ll be calm, productive, and finally become the person you were always meant to be. I even read that you’ll start to receive money if you make space for it.

Sorry to break it to you, but this is not true.

Decluttering is an action; it can be helpful, in the same way that using a microwave can make things easier, both solve a practical task, but nothing fundamentally changes how you feel and function.

If you notice you’re relying on tidying or decluttering to feel better, it might be helpful to speak to your GP or a therapist, who can help you understand what’s behind it.

Decluttering can play a part in feeling more settled, but it works best when there’s also a sense of internal safety, not just an organised cutlery drawer.

#4. Break chores down into single tasks.

Decluttering strategies are a set-up-to-fail process, with impossible, overwhelming expectations attached to them. If decluttering were straightforward, the billions of books, storage products, and expert services wouldn’t need to exist.

It bundles four separate tasks into one: tidying, cleaning, organising, and deciding what to let go of. Each requires different skills, different energy, and a different headspace. Expecting yourself to do all four simultaneously, on top of everything else life demands, is a lot. For many people, it won’t end successfully.

Choose one task and be realistic with your time and energy. And don’t give yourself a hard time if you don’t achieve everything you hoped to do; there is far more to life than a tidy home. I would add that if you can only do one thing, pick cleaning as an unorganised, untidy clean home is safer for everyone who lives there.

#5. Let go of shame, not possessions.

Having too many possessions is seen as a problem, a lack of self-control, an inability to release the past and move on, and getting rid of them will make us feel so much better.

For most people, that isn’t true. Their belongings aren’t clutter. They’re memory, comfort, and connection. Which is why decluttering can leave people feeling guilty for keeping things they love, and then guilty again for getting rid of things they wish they’d kept. Remember, something is only clutter if you call it that.

My daughter is neurodivergent. Her bedroom is full. She loves everything in her room, and I wouldn’t dream of telling her what she can and can’t keep. Decluttering influencers recommend limiting children’s toys. I asked how she’d feel if I followed the advice, “Yeah, it’d be fine, but it wouldn’t be my room anymore.”

Please don’t ever get rid of anything because you think it’s what you should do. If you suspect hoarding, you deserve specialist and gentle advice, not shame. Please reach out and ask for support.

#6. Use the ‘wise mind’ technique to decide what to bring into your home.

I learned about the wise mind technique a few years ago when dealing with toxic people in my life. It helped me slow down and assess the situation, where before I’d rush in, not think things through, and say yes when it should have been a no or get unnecessarily emotional.

If you find you buy too much or get lured into impulse buying, you can use the same technique. It can help you make a decision that takes your emotions and logic into account without impulsivity, helping you feel more in control, by considering the positive and negative consequences of the decision.

Creating distance between yourself and the item can help. Keep browsing, or leave the shop. If you’ve forgotten about it within thirty minutes, your wise mind has already decided you don’t need it. This is probably why so many items sit abandoned in online shopping baskets; your wise mind is quietly doing its job.

If you want to buy it, ask yourself:

• Do I really like it?

• How would it feel to have it at home?

• Where will it go at home?

• Do I really need it? Or do I have something similar already?

• Can I afford it?

Please don’t ever feel guilty or ashamed about how your home looks. We all need to look after our homes, but if that ever feels overwhelming, distressing, or unmanageable, it doesn’t mean you’re failing; it means something about the approach or your expectations isn’t working for you. That deserves understanding, not shame or guilt.

Asking for help is not a failure; it’s the opposite. Everyone deserves to feel happy at home.

In the UK, both Granta Smile and Hoarding UK offer specialist, trauma-informed support for hoarding and compulsive decluttering. For a gentle, practical guide, KC Davis’ Book How to Keep House While Drowning or Podcast Struggle Care is also helpful.

For many of us, the healthiest place is in the middle of the scale. Able to feel okay about chores without it taking up too much emotional energy either way.

I’d love everyone to feel okay about not wiping the worktops before bed.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to read more from me, please subscribe… oh and share if you think someone else would too.

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If you’d like to support my work, please consider a paid subscription or rather, suggest you buy me a coffee … as I don’t drink coffee, my guide, 5 Steps To Choosing Paint Colours, might be more fun and helpful for you.

Claire x

I also think that when you get something you’ve never had before, and it feels really good, you will do anything to keep it. Holding on to it tight like a rugby ball tucked under your arm, batting away anyone attempting to remove it.

For me, that is the feeling of home.

Growing up, I felt that everyone else had a ‘real’ home. I remember lying in bed daydreaming of a house in the woods. My bedroom would be safe and warm, tucked under the eaves.

I thought it was normal to want a different home and different parents. I thought everyone felt this way. It wasn’t until I went to university that I realised other people actually liked their parents and their childhood homes. A concept that was completely alien to me, and deep down, I always thought they were lying.

My first year at uni, I arrived at the halls of residence. As I unloaded the car with my reluctant parents in tow, I watched other girls being dropped off. Teary hugs, arms full of boxes with food supplies and promises of calls when they were settled in. I couldn’t wait for my parents to leave; they couldn’t either.

The halls were neither glamorous nor homely. But the communal kitchen at the end of the day became everything to me.

There were six of us who shared the basic kitchen. Sticky lino flooring, wipeable cupboards that needed a good wipe and a worktop piled high with dirty plates and mugs used as ashtrays. I loved it. We’d sit for hours under the harsh commercial overhead lights around the white Formica-topped table, sharing our stories and getting to know each other. We’d find, sometimes steal, whatever food and snacks we could scrape together. I remember the long conversations, sometimes deep, sometimes silly, but always lots of uncontrollable laughter, tears rolling down our faces. Memories being made and cemented in our young minds.

That’s when I finally understood what home could feel like.

Those five girls liked me. They were excited when my head appeared around the door of the little kitchen; they’d come searching for me when it didn’t. They listened to my stories and laughed at my jokes. I finally felt part of something. They felt more like family than my own. Those student halls felt like home.

In my lifetime, I have lived in over 15 homes, and I never take for granted when somewhere feels like home. I have learnt that a place can be perfectly fine, decorated beautifully, clean, tidy, living with family, friends or on your own, but if you don’t feel safe, physically or emotionally, it probably won’t feel like home.

At my last house, I didn’t feel physically safe. I put it down to one incident that happened, not long after we bought it, and we were in the process of extending it. Planning permission went in, and one neighbour was not happy.

I popped round for a friendly chat to reassure him that the building work wouldn’t affect him. He clearly disagreed and spat at me. After that, I hated walking down the street, and subsequently, I started to hate living there. We did the building work and not long after moved into a rental, where I live now.

The rented house isn’t in any way my dream home, but I am physically safe. The neighbours are kind, and it feels very much like home.

It’s now glaringly obvious what was missing from my childhood house and why it never felt like home. My parents’ love always felt limited and conditional. They were also inconsistent with their care, time and emotions. Their home or love was not safe.

A home is more than how it looks; it’s somewhere safe to be yourself, never hiding the parts you think won’t be liked, which is why the student halls of residence felt more like home than my parents’ house ever did. I finally had somewhere I could be myself, and it was celebrated.

Emotional safety is built on love. As children, we need consistent love from our parents to feel safe. As adults, we can learn to love ourselves and accept love from the people around us. Feeling safe is worth more than anything you can buy or design.

This is how I know I’m safe and feel I’m home:

The neighbour waves and smiles at me as I get out of my car.

My once chubby jumping toddlers that are now long-legged teens press their excited faces against the window, still happy to see me as I arrive home.

As I close the door behind me, I feel an invisible hug embrace me, letting me know "everything is okay now."

The smell that greets me ignites something so deep inside I want to bottle it.

Two fluffy dogs desperate to be petted, and then their eight padded feet scurrying to keep up, to stay as close as they can to me.

The guaranteed place at my favourite table, no need to ever make a reservation.

Familiar noises, neighbours chatting, birds singing, and giggles echoing from upstairs.

Dancing with pure abandon to Calvin Harris at full volume around the kitchen.

There are never consequences for being sad, mad or having a different point of view.

It’s the only place I want to be when sickness sneaks up on me.

Seeing all our memories scattered around each room.

The relentless laundry basket that I know I'll miss when it’s no longer overflowing.

Safe to be quiet and still when I can't face anyone or anything.

The stillness and contentment as I turn off the last light before going up to bed.

My nightly invitation to sleep, whether it chooses to come or not, is a comfort, knowing I'm never scared if it doesn't.

The reassurances and demands as I leave, "Please be safe", "Come back soon."

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to read more from me, please subscribe… oh and share if you think someone else would too.

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Claire x

Turns out, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Home didn’t become my favourite place until my late twenties. A new job brought more responsibility, and with that, absurdly early mornings, meetings that stretched into the night, and constant long overseas trips. Suddenly, relaxed, quiet nights in were far more appealing than any hedonistic night out.

But…I still said yes to every invitation, even though deep down it was a hell no. I’d do anything to avoid going and would make terrible last-minute excuses:

• I faked a tummy bug, even pretended to gag mid-call, before quickly hanging up.

• I took a twenty-minute bus ride home, but said my train broke down, and I was stuck for hours.

• There were a bunch of us getting ready to go out, and as I really didn’t want to go, I pretended to fall asleep right in the middle of everyone.

Sometimes I couldn’t bring myself to lie, so I’d say yes and then not show up. Spending the rest of the night feeling guilty and hiding from the barrage of texts and calls asking, ‘Where are you???’

Does any of this sound familiar?

Staying home pre-COVID wasn’t so acceptable, and if you declined a night out, you’d be called boring, lazy, or even a recluse, trying everything to entice you to come. But since then, thankfully, staying home is now considered a treat, and with far less guilt attached, and more appropriately, you’ll be called a ‘homebody’.

I’d like to think we’re moving away from FOMO - the fear of missing out. And embracing JOMO instead- the joy of missing out.

Prioritising time alone at home, without worrying that everyone else is having more fun, has real psychological benefits. It brings a sense of contentment and strengthens our mental health. Here’s what I’ve learned from very wise homebodies:

#1. Their home really is their haven. They know home shouldn’t be performative and fill them with things they genuinely love.

Whether it’s soft, calming tones or bold and colourful, a true homebody follows their own rules and no one else’s.

Surrounding ourselves with things that feel familiar or remind us of happy times signals to our nervous system that we are safe, helping it get a well-deserved rest.

Shop-bought ‘props’ or following ever-changing trends can make our home feel borrowed or unfamiliar, and won’t have the same calming effect.

#2. They know slowing down helps everything flow more easily. This one blew my mind. brain.

Our brains have a default setting called the Default Mode Network (DMN), which kicks in when we’re not focused on a task in the outside world, giving our brains time to catch up with what’s happening inside. It sparks creativity, allows daydreaming and helps us process what we’ve experienced.

I used to think rather than scrolling my phone keeping busy was healthier, but doing absolutely nothing is even better for me. Now I let myself daydream, and I get my best ‘lightbulb’ ideas when my mind wanders.

#3. They know themselves. Homebodies love the calm and quiet of home, as it brings clarity.

Allowing them to hone their self-awareness and emotional intelligence skills so they can process their thoughts and feelings far more effectively. They are also more likely to understand and imagine how other people feel and think.

#4. They feel less stressed. Homebodies know when to ignore social pressure.

They choose solitude over crowds to protect their energy and mental focus. Rather than a lonely experience, they see it as a productive and nourishing choice instead.

Going out when you’re not feeling it; smiling, laughing, asking the right questions, listening, and pretending you’re having fun can be stressful and exhausting. Stepping away when you just don’t have the mental capacity is a brilliant, healthy, stress-free option.

#5. They avoid toxic people and places. Homebodies show us it’s ok to opt out of toxic situations or uncomfortable places.

The many after-work drinks I felt obliged to go to, always wishing I’d declined. I hated the noisy bar, and I was the only one who would talk to David from merchandising, who loved talking ‘business’, especially after his third glass of red wine.

#6. They choose their people wisely. Homebodies prioritise quality relationships over quantity.

Their strong self-worth makes them selective about who they spend their time with. Their circle of friends may be smaller, but they are deeper, more authentic, and built on loyalty and trust.

I never fully understood why I didn’t want any big milestone birthday celebrations, always opting for simpler, intimate occasions instead. Now I get it. I love a deeper conversation, and I much prefer to have five close friends than fifty acquaintances who don’t even know my last name.

#7. They set and keep healthy boundaries. Homebodies know when to say no.

They are far more intentional with their time and where to use their social ‘battery’. Knowing when to say 'no' to overstimulation and 'yes' to rest.

As a former people pleaser, I’ve always been envious of anyone who can confidently say, “No, I’m not coming, I want to stay home,” But why shouldn’t we? If going out is exhausting, and you know staying in brings far more joy, then respecting and choosing yourself is the way forward.

We’ve all done it, said yes to an invitation when we mean no, but I’ve learnt it is ok to decline (and without over-explaining).

The three strategies I use:

1. If I’m unsure, I buy myself time: “Let me check my diary, and I’ll get back to you.”

2. If it’s a friend who knows me well, I tell the truth.

3. If it’s someone who will try to persuade me, “Oh no, that’s such a shame, I already have plans. Thank you though, it sounds lovely.”

Life is all about balance. Being a homebody isn’t just about staying home and watching TV. It’s about creating a haven for your nervous system, your emotions, and your mind.

Now, on the days I need to reset, I stay home guilt-free. When I do go out, I enjoy it far more because my social battery is fully recharged, and I know my pyjamas are waiting for me at home.

Happy homebodying.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to read more from me, please subscribe… oh and share if you think someone else would too.

Claire.x

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Being home, made everything feel okay. If I’m honest, home is the most powerful ‘mental health tool’ I have, and I eeked out every ounce of its resources that summer.

Sometimes I forget and get distracted by all the things that I should do to it: clean it, tidy it, improve it. But when I stop and just let home be home, I am grateful for it.

Home is the one place I can be unapologetically me, with my idiosyncrasies on show; thankfully, my favourite people don’t bat an eyelid.

It’s easy to forget that a home isn’t for show, it isn’t to impress or make us money, but a place where our relationships, the ones with ourselves and the people we live with, have a real chance of growing stronger, and our nervous system can exhale and recalibrate.

Here are 11 ways that help me find my happy again if life is a bit shit:

#1. I write I love you in steam on the bathroom mirror. So simple, self-love leads to greater self-worth and with strong self-worth, you feel unstoppable. The perfect confidence booster if you’re feeling low.

I struggled to like myself, let alone tell myself I love me. But I learnt to, and the mirror became my biggest fan. My gentle reminder that I am loved, my husband sees it too, which makes him smile.

#2. I skip the chores. When my kids were little, on the days when thinking of another meal, let alone cooking it, felt too much. I’d offer a party on a plate for dinner instead. I’d find whatever was left in the fridge and cupboards, basically, anything quick and easy, sandwiches, cooked sausages, cheese crackers, fruit, crisps. They loved it, and so did I.

My husband and I still steal the idea when we can’t be bothered with cooking. Cheese, crackers … and wine, obviously, it’s a party after all.

#3. Bake something to bring all the kids to the yard. If I’m feeling a little disjointed from everyone, I bake or cook something delicious, and before I know it, everyone appears in the kitchen, enticed by the smell. If it’s a nostalgic recipe, even better, as the smell kick-starts a happy memory.

#4. When I don’t want to be alone. I encourage someone to join me, I make room for them by clearing a space and patting the seat next to me.

The gentle, unspoken invite works a treat on teenage kids, as asking out loud doesn’t always get the response I want to hear. So far, no one has resisted. Give it a try.

#5. I watch my favourite show. During tricky moments, as I collapsed into bed, I always found myself searching the TV for old reruns of Sex and the City. The familiarity of the plot, characters, and set calmed my nervous system, as I already knew everything about each episode. My brain didn’t have to do any work and could switch off.

#6. Name a plant. Years ago, I read an interview with a psychiatrist who gave her patients suffering from severe mental health issues a plant to look after, as it gave them hope and a purpose. I loved that, and since then, I’ve named my plants as I’m less likely to abandon them if they have a personality. Frank is my favourite.

#7. See the small good things. Our brains are brilliant at spotting what’s wrong, but they can be trained to see what’s right too. When a dark mood lingers, I shift my attention to lift your mood by looking around and naming five things that make me smile. The dappled light dancing across the floor, the shoes of the people I love, two contented snoozing dogs, a photo from a day I’d happily relive, or my favourite sweets within reach. Could you think of five? Or more?

#8. Make yourself smile. Use your favourite things; they don’t have to be your best things, just the ones that make you happy. My niece sometimes eats off the kids’ plastic plates as the jaunty characters make her smile. One of my favourite things is to use colourful, fun, patterned paper napkins, and not just for parties. I pick any that I like the look of—no rules, just low-stakes, affordable fun.

#9. Water. Drink it, bathe in it, listen to it or look at it. I’m convinced it’s one of the most underrated things we have in our home. When the kids were babies and feeling fractious, I’d plop them in the bath with bubbles and toys; normal service would soon resume with giggles and happy faces.

Now they’re older, if they’re feeling low, I offer to run a bath for them; their little plastic toys have upgraded to iPads, so I place a small stool by the bath to rest it on while they watch their favourite show.

#10. A bit of you scattered around. When my home was too considered, I sometimes felt like a stranger in my own home. I now scatter my home with the things I love, my favourite colours, books, flowers, scent. When your personality is visible, home feels familiar and safe.

#11. Let there be light. If the weather is brighter than my mood, I open the curtains and blinds as wide as I can. Letting as much light in as possible, as seeing the trees and birds outside makes me feel instantly calmer and happier.

If the day is grey and the room feels dark even at two in the afternoon, I lean into it. These are not days for the ‘big light’! I keep my lighting soft with candles and table lamps - check your bulbs aren’t too bright or cold.

I hope this helps you to be softer with yourself on the days that feel heavy, and to let your home do some of the lifting; it’s more than capable.

Claire. x

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To reduce the likelihood of a bigger, more serious conversation, you’ll find various single seats scattered around my home to instigate little impromptu chats instead. Where bigger issues and worries can be shared in smaller, manageable moments. Rather than keeping everything bottled up until it explodes out when no one is prepared, and defences instinctively go up, like when your dog spies the postman.

My tip is to place a stool or chair near someone who will be carrying out a task. A place to perch. Prepping food. Ironing. Potting plants. Taking a bath. Sitting in bed. At your desk. Washing up. Cooking. Baking. Tinkering in the shed.

A bit like driving chats, which always seem to be far more relaxed than “can we have a sit down and talk?” no matter how heavy the topic. Driving chats work as you’re sitting side-by-side, one of you is concentrating on driving, eye contact isn't continuous, pauses in the conversation are natural, and silence doesn’t feel so awkward. The focus isn’t on the person, but the task: driving. The conversation can feel easier and more relaxed, less intimidating. Which means you can be more open, especially helpful when discussing sensitive topics.

We can apply a similar setup in our homes, for example, placing a barstool near someone, chopping vegetables for dinner, or next to the workbench in the shed. They’re busy with their task, and conversation isn’t so pressured. The physical activity allows the person to focus on the task, and both parties feel less “on the spot”.

Teenagers and husbands, I find, are often the least inclined to talk. Teenagers disappear into their rooms for hours, and men are statistically far less likely to seek support for their mental health. Both quietly reduce the chances for everyday connection. At the same time, anxiety in teens continues to rise, and suicide remains one of the leading causes of death for men under 50.

When our homes offer a place to perch, someone can linger without feeling interrogated; it becomes easier to share what’s going on in our worlds. The heavier thoughts living rent-free in our heads can be shared in a relaxed and safe way. In the gentle act of talking, we’re reminded that what we’re carrying is manageable, that we are loved and cared for.

A vintage stool or small chair offers a relaxed place to perch, also a lovely investment for any room. It can be seen as a gentle invitation for company, someone you care about, to join you. They will feel they belong there, and a conversation needed might be sparked.

I have a small vintage stool that I picked up in a charity shop for £5. It sits beside my desk, and when my daughters come home from school, they sit on it and fill me in on their day. Rather than hovering at the door and feeling they're interrupting me, the little stool lets them know they’re invited in and where to perch.

I love our catch-ups. Without the stool inviting them, I’m not sure they’d come in at all, let alone share so much detail.

If you have a task that keeps you away from the rest of the household for a while, maybe consider having a place to perch nearby. Not everyone will take up the invitation every time, but we should never stop having places to perch at the ready for when someone quietly needs them. x

Men’s UK Mental Health Charities:

mensmindsmatter.org

andysmanclub.co.uk

thecalmzone.net

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Why I kept my home unnaturally clean, clutter-free, with nothing out of place and the mop always ready at the end of each day is glaringly obvious now. But then, I thought I just took great pride in my home, keeping it to a standard worthy of an interiors magazine shoot and smelling like the cleaning product aisle in a supermarket.

I now understand why I kept it this way. I needed to be busy, and keeping my home in strict order gave me a sense of control in a body that felt so out of control and a way to avoid my uncomfortable feelings that were bubbling away underneath the surface.

It was exhausting. Anxiety was continually running through my body as I constantly scanned for anything out of place. It was a daily, even hourly, struggle. A billion-dollar industry gave me a way to explain away my coping mechanism, all under the guise of labelling it ‘Decluttering’.

Look past the shiny empty surfaces and neatly organised drawers, and the reality is the need to live clutter-free can be a band-aid for something deeper going on underneath, like it was for me.

Decluttering and cleaning treat the symptom, but not the cause. A therapist helped me unpick mine and heal the wounds that no amount of disinfectant or organising could.

There is a very profitable industry behind decluttering. Predominantly aimed at women by shaming and guilting us into thinking that having the things we own around us is a bad thing, that signs of life are a bad thing.

TV shows, best-selling books, bespoke services, experts, and too many Instagram gurus to mention have all turned a good old tidy up into something marketable and, in the process, given a coping mechanism a clutter-free home to hide in.

The claim that having a clutter-free home is the only way to live a peaceful, calm life is misleading. Yes, there is research to back this to some extent, but it’s not so black and white.

• Pushing a process with timelines, quantities and expectations adds unnecessary anxiety and stress.

• Decluttering methods that encourage ruthless discarding can trigger feelings of guilt and sadness, especially when getting rid of items with sentimental value.

• The guilt post-decluttering can lead to regret over parting with memories.

• I argue that the practice of decluttering encourages us to buy frivolously, a sneaky way to allow us to buy whether we really like or need it, subconsciously knowing it won’t be a permanent fixture if we declutter frequently.

• The pressure to maintain a decluttered home becomes its own source of unnecessary anxiety.

Is throwing memories away and labelling our pasta jars, really the secret to a happier you and home? Overlooking the emotional value of possessions and the complexities of human relationships just to keep a home looking tidy can be very confusing, feeling torn between perfection and people. I’ve thrown my fair share of memories away as I couldn’t quite fit them into my organised cupboards or limited colour palette. This makes me very sad.

Before you are ‘encouraged’ to declutter, give yourself some time to assess what’s really going on for you. Always be kind to yourself. Don’t get drawn into doing what you think you should. Maybe the guilt you’re feeling is a product of society’s standard of what contributes to clutter.

Things you love and hold dear aren’t actually clutter until you assign them that label.

I wish I’d asked myself these three questions; my answers would have been really helpful.

• How does decluttering make me feel? Happy, anxious?

• How do I feel if I sense or see a mess?

• How does my behaviour impact the people around me?

The only kind of decluttering I do now is emotional decluttering.

Emotional clutter is having overwhelming negative thoughts and beliefs that keep replaying round and round. Feelings like guilt, shame, or resentment, that all live rent-free in our heads.

Toxic relationships, work or life stresses may be the cause, but working out where all these thoughts and feelings are coming from is a good place to start. Pausing and being curious about situations and circumstances that trigger your emotional responses will help.

Understanding what I could control and what I couldn’t removed a whole level of anxiety, confusion and frustration. Releasing any expectation I had of other people and myself actually gave me more control in my life. By focusing my energy on my own reactions, I moved from feeling powerless to feeling more capable, with a greater sense of peace and empowerment.

Understanding what we can control is more powerful than trying to control everything.

I learnt how to set and keep healthy boundaries. Finally putting down what was never mine to carry, and learning not to pick it back up again.

If my thoughts and feelings start to feel cluttered, I pause and check in to see what’s piling up and needs a ‘declutter’. Reminding myself to only worry about the things within my control.

The interesting thing is that when my emotions were chaotic and unreachable, my house and cupboards were immaculate.

Now my emotions and thoughts are organised and much easier to access because they’re not buried deep under piles of rubbish. I no longer feel the need to excessively clean, tidy, and declutter. If I notice my emotions starting to become cluttered again, I sort through them to understand what’s happening and get rid of what I don’t need.

I’m very chilled about keeping my home clean, I just think of it as tidying up. All pressure has disappeared. No timers. No weekly bin bags to fill. No schedule to keep. No expectation.

If you recognise yourself or someone else within this, please ask for support. You do not need to go through this alone.

Thank you for reading!

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Claire.x

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“People pleaser? Me? Nope!” This is what I would’ve said if you’d asked me before my building project. I had no clue how much of a people pleaser I was, how much I bent myself to be liked, tried to avoid confrontation, or spiral if I thought I’d made a bad decision.

People-pleasing to avoid any awkward conversations, or to make someone like you, only leads to more stress and even trickier situations later on that no amount of cups of tea or bacon rolls can get you out of.

Having a team of usually male trades in your home can be quite intimidating. If they’ve done something you hadn’t agreed on, or you don’t like what they’ve done can be difficult to address. Even the most secure, confident person might find it challenging. I did everything I could to avoid awkward conversations, taking what I thought was the easier route rather than just being honest in the first place.

Read and learn from my mistakes.

• My builder suggested a different position for my patio doors, but I didn’t like it. I guessed it was to make his life easier rather than enhance mine. What I could have said: “Thank you for your suggestion, but no, I’m good with my decision.” What I actually said: “Yes, great, thank you!”

• My plumber put the radiator in the wrong place. The new position created issues with where I could place my sofa. What I could have said: “Thanks for getting this fitted; it actually needs to be here, so it’ll need moving.” What I actually said: “Oh, what a shame it’s there, but don’t worry, that’s fine”

• The roofer left their tools and mess everywhere. I’ve never seen so many Greggs paper bags and coffee cups accumulate so quickly; there were only three of them working on my roof. What I could have said: “Thank you for your hard work, but tidy up at the end of each day, please.” What I actually said: Absolutely nothing! I tidied up myself, but that’s ok as I didn’t moan about it once!!

• I made all my trades bacon rolls, tea, coffee, and gave them biscuits, ice-creams and croissants. I know, I know… What I wanted to do: None of this as I was trying to work, look after the kids and keep the house livable throughout he work. Why I didn’t: This was hard to admit, but I wanted them to like me.

• The decorator asked me where I wanted to paint and which colour. He kindly offered his opinion on what he thought, but between you and me, he didn’t have the best taste and, judging from his age, had been offering the same suggestion since 1982. What I could have done: Ignored his opinion and trusted my decision. What I actually did: I did ignore his suggestion, told him where to paint and what colour, but I then, for the next week, second-guessed my choice and worried that he would think I’d made a mistake and it was stupid.

So, did I end up with things in the wrong place and a team of trades that loved me? Er, yes, and no. Yes, the patio doors thankfully weren’t that noticeable, and the radiator? I bought a different sofa. Did they like me? I honestly doubt it. Why would they? We weren’t friends!

Whenever I help clients with their own renovations, I definitely do not behave like this on their projects. I run such a tight ship, with no room for suggestions, initiative or bad taste to even fear its ugly head. I delved into people-pleasing as I wanted to understand why I did it, whether I did it anywhere else in my life and how I could stop.

Why?

I learnt people pleasing wasn’t really about pleasing other people, but to protect myself. Avoiding any uncomfortable feelings by trying to manage situations or someone else’s emotions.

Did I do it anywhere else in my life?

Probably, ok yes… The reason is quite deep and too long for this story, so I’ll save that for another time.

How To Stop.

Realising how cruel it was to say yes when I really meant no, and then moan about it afterwards, helped. Maybe it was the people pleaser in me, but I knew I had to change. Here’s what helped:

• I learnt it’s okay to politely and respectfully say no. I can now say it straight away rather than when it’s too late.

• But when saying no in the moment felt too hard, I bought myself some time by saying, “Let me get back to you.”

• I set clear boundaries with instructions and expectations that left no room for confusion, advice or suggestions.

• I was never mean or unkind, but got comfortable with not being liked.

• Reminded myself that other people’s reactions of displeasure, persistence, or guilt-trips are theirs to manage, not mine.

• I’ve worked on my self-awareness, confidence and emotional intelligence, so I trust my voice and decisions.

I now think of myself as energy, and I try to protect it, not letting anyone take it away or lower it. I’m happier and hopefully, the people around me are too… well, apart from my trades as they don’t get bacon rolls anymore!