I’m not a good homemaker.

I’m just not.

I’m convinced it’s in my DNA.

I know nowadays women don’t need to be homemakers, and it’s all good.

But I feel pressure that I should care a little bit more than I do.

I see other women who have these pretty, put together homes. No, they aren’t always clean, because . . . kids. But still, their houses are beautiful. Some even magazine-worthy.

And at the very least, I hear women talking about how they’d like to change their home into the magazine-worthy type.

And then there’s me.

I liked the color navy blue so I painted some doors and walls in our house blue.

It was a big mistake.

My house is more the “cozy” type . . . which might just be a nice word for cluttered.

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There isn’t a piece of furniture we own that doesn’t have toddler scribbles on it. Not one.

Things don’t match. I don’t understand color schemes. Some walls are bare, some have way too much on them.

Books and toys are everywhere, with no place to call their own.

And I’m OK with that, but sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t be.

I recently heard another woman talk about being embarrassed to invite people over because of how her home looked.

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It got me thinking about what really makes a house a home. What gives it life and what makes it full of love.

A home is a place you get to spend time with your favorite people on the planet.

A home is where you get to invite others into the love you’ve created in that space.

A home is a place to build memories.

A home is our safe spot, our comfort. It’s where we run to when we want to rest.

A home is where hugs and kisses and giggles live.

A home is where people grow individually and together.

A home is where worship takes place in so many different ways.

These things can happen in a multi-million dollar mansion, in a rustic farm home, in your old, beaten down, first-time-buyer home, or in your one-bedroom apartment.

How you treat people in that home is what makes a home beautiful. No matter what it looks like.

So ladies, there is no shame in the home you live in.

If it’s a place of love, it’s beautiful.

And the people you invite in will feel that love, too.

That’s what matters most.

Originally published on the author’s Facebook page