“That’s the last one”, I shouted to my mother. We had spent the entire morning driving then loading up boxes to my room that would be my home for the next year. When I walked in the room it was completely empty. Bare of any sign of life. Anyone could have lived there. Yet, within an hour the room was full of color and life. Full of me. Flowers, maps, and dreams of a life to come covered the room. Suddenly, I was home. This 14′-8 1/2″ deep and 11′-6 5/8″ wide room had become my house that I share 338 other students in pursuit of a college education.
This would be my third year living on campus in a residence hall. Most students live off campus after their first year, but not me. There is an allurement about living in a community. Developing relationships within the residence halls has allowed me to feel at home. I don’t need a lot of space. I need enough to have a place to rest my head at night, and shower in the morning. Anything past that is a luxury. (oh yeah and a coffee maker is a must)
I am in love with the small details that remind me where I have come from and where I want to go. Whatever space you decide to inhabit I hope that you find as much joy in it as I have this tiny room.
Embrace your home.