WHEN HOME EXISTS IN MORE THAN ONE PLACE
- Viktoria Gilanyi
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
A personal reflection on belonging, identity, and the spaces we call home..
As Canada Day approaches, I’ve found myself reflecting on the idea of home.
Not just where home is, but what makes a place feel like one.
Perhaps that’s because my answer to the question “Where are you from?” has never been particularly simple.
I was born in what was then Czech Republic. I grew up in Slovakia, spent ten years living in Budapest, later moved to Montreal, and eventually settled in Toronto.
Over the years, I’ve crossed more than a few borders. Some were geographical. Others were personal. Each move required me to leave something familiar behind and learn how to feel at home somewhere new.
What I’ve come to realize is that home is a surprisingly difficult thing to define.
For a long time, I thought home was a place.
Then I thought it was the place where I spent the most years.
Later, I wondered if it was the place where my family lived, where I built a career, or where I imagined my future.
Today, I’m not sure any of those definitions are complete.
The longer I’ve lived in different places, the less I believe home is something we find. I think it’s something we create.
When we move, we often focus on the practical challenges. Finding a place to live. Learning a new city. Building new routines. Meeting new people.
What receives less attention is the subtle process of creating familiarity.
It’s the mug you reach for every morning.
The chair where you read at the end of the day.
The scent that reminds you of childhood.
The way sunlight falls across a room at a particular hour.
The collection of small, ordinary details that quietly tell your nervous system: you belong here.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve always been drawn to design that prioritizes feeling over appearance.
Of course, beautiful materials matter. Thoughtful layouts matter. Good lighting matters.
But what interests me most is how a space supports the people living within it.
Does it help them feel calm?
Does it make daily life easier?
Does it reflect who they are and how they want to live?
Does it give them a sense of belonging?
As a designer, I’ve come to realize that many of my clients are navigating their own versions of starting over.
Some are welcoming children into their lives.
Others are renovating homes they’ve outgrown.
Some are downsizing after decades in the same house.
Others are recovering from illness, changing careers, or entering entirely new chapters.
They may never have crossed an international border, but they are still asking a similar question:
How do I create a place where I feel grounded again?
Design cannot answer every challenge life presents.
What it can do is provide a foundation.
A place that supports us when life feels uncertain.
A place that reflects our values, our routines, and our aspirations.
A place that feels unmistakably ours.
Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been searching for a single definition of home.
Instead, I’ve been collecting pieces of it in different places.
A memory from Slovakia.
A lesson from Budapest.
A tradition from Montreal.
A life built in Toronto.
Together, they’ve shaped not only who I am, but also how I approach design.
Because home, at its best, is not about a specific address.
It’s about creating a place where you can exhale, feel grounded, and know that you belong.
If you’re planning a renovation — or simply longing for a home that feels more like you — I’d love to help.
Get in touch when you’re ready when you’re ready to transform ideas into a clear vision for your home.
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