When Home Doesn’t Feel Like Home
You work, you give, you show up. But the moment you turn the key and walk through the door, your chest tightens. The energy hits first—cold, tense, off.
Criticism waiting.
Eyes that don't see you.
Conversations that feel like landmines.
You dread coming home.
Not because of what's there, but because of what’s missing. Safety. Understanding. Peace. A soft place to land.
No one talks about this. They post their happy pics, act like love is solid, like home is sacred. But behind closed doors, so many are quietly breaking.
Disconnected.
Misunderstood.
Walking on eggshells in their own home.
And it’s not always screaming fights—it’s the slow erosion.
The silence.
The distance.
The knowing something’s wrong but not knowing how to fix it.
Is this your experience, or your partners? It's a slippery slope sliding into this groundhog day. For most they believe it's impossible to change, it's also easy to blame the other person. "They created this, it's their fault, they are the villain!" What does that make you in the story? The victim.
Not victim blaming here, just pointing out what's super common in society and how to shift this scenario, no matter what role you play is rather simple, easy, no, I said simple.
This isn’t about blame. It’s about truth. If you’re tired of surviving in a space that’s supposed to feel safe, if you're done pretending everything's fine when it’s not—reach out.
There's a different way to do love.
And it doesn’t have to hurt or be difficult.