What Makes A Home Feel Welcoming?

One of my favorite things is walking into a home that feels good. Not just tidy, or well-decorated, or Pinterest-worthy even—but soul warming good. Cozy. Inviting. Lived-in.

And yet, it’s hard to put your finger on what exactly creates that feeling, isn’t it? That feeling of comfort.

I’ve been thinking about this lately—not because I’ve nailed it (far from it, actually, haha), but because I’ve been paying closer attention. To how homes smell when you walk in. To how people greet you when you arrive. To the way the light hits the kitchen table. And to what makes me want to linger instead of subtly checking the time and implementing my (always-on-the-ready) exit strategy.

Some homes just have that thing. That warmth that seeps into your bones and makes you want to kick your shoes off and stay for a cup of coffee.

After a lot of thought and consideration, here’s what I’ve noticed about the homes that do that for me:

1. There’s a sense of life happening.

There might be a pair of shoes kicked off by the door or a half-finished puzzle on the table. You might hear a dog barking in the backyard or see a grocery list scribbled on the fridge. It’s not staged. It’s not perfect. And that’s what makes it feel so welcoming. Someone actually lives here.

2. There’s something cooking (or at least the illusion of it).

I don’t know what kind of magic spell is cast when a house smells like cookies or garlic and olive oil or even just brewed coffee, but it’s powerful. You feel like you’ve arrived somewhere you belong. And no, it doesn’t have to be homemade—lighting a vanilla candle or warming up a frozen banana bread totally counts.

3. The people set the tone.

Some of the warmest homes I’ve been in weren’t because of the aesthetic, but because of the people. They offered a drink before I took off my coat. They talked to me from the kitchen while stirring soup. They acted like they were glad I was there. And that’s something no throw pillow can replicate. Am I right?

4. The lighting matters.

Is it just me or does harsh overhead lighting instantly kill the vibe? The welcoming homes I love tend to have soft warm light. Lamps in corners. Candles burning. Maybe a little twinkle from string lights on the patio out kitchen window. It’s subtle, but it makes everything feel softer and more welcoming.

5. There are signs of thoughtfulness.

A blanket draped on the arm of the couch. A box of tissues on the nightstand in the guest room. A small dish for your earrings on the bathroom counter. It’s not about being fancy—it’s about being considerate. These tiny gestures say, “I thought about you before you got here.” And that’s magical.

6. There’s room to be yourself.

You don’t feel like you have to sit up straight and hold in your sneeze. You don’t feel like you’re going to ruin the aesthetic by putting your glass down. In a truly welcoming home, you feel at ease being fully you—messy hair, loud laugh, second helping of dessert and all (or third, no judgment from me—I’m a dessert hog).

So what do you do that makes your home feel welcoming?

I’m still working on it and figuring mine out. I click on some flameless candles in several rooms and toss a throw blanket strategically over the couch, but more than anything, I try to be just genuinely glad people are there. To meet them at the door. To remember their favorite drink. To say, “I’m so happy you’re here,” and really mean it.

Because in the end, I think that’s what people remember. Not whether you vacuumed under the couch or had matching napkins—but how you made them feel.

And that’s the kind of home I want, so come on in and have a seat, my friend.