Home is a place of comfort. Home has that particular smell. Home is where our stuff is. Its halls you know so well. It’s where we gather with friends, and the decor is uniquely you. It may have cracks in the foundations, and another issue or two. It won’t ever be perfect, always a work-in-progress. But home is home, and you love it nonetheless.
A website, your own personal website, is just like this—a digital home, on the web. With all the same comforts, familiarities and problems that need-a-fixin’. You can design it how you want, add rooms (pages), invite friends over, paint the walls, hang some art, share your recipes, get some much-needed peace and quiet, anything! But unlike actual home ownership, it’s a lot more attainable (financially-speaking).
This is how I think about my site. It’s truly become that way for me. It’s just a place I like to go to—to hang out, read stuff I’ve written about before, explore, experience, and just chill. I see little things that need to be fixed and I go tinker. I get inspired by something I’ve written about in the past or from something I’ve seen elsewhere and I go make an addition on my site, or I write some new post. Because it’s my site, it always feels like I’m building something. There’s a real investment to it. With it comes pride, and a feeling of accomplishment. Also as a bonus, it’s something I know the rest of the world can enjoy, take inspiration from or just send me nice feedback about. But there are no “likes” here. You don’t have to bake in social features—comment systems, webmentions, anything. I can just hang out here, by myself. Do whatever I want—just vibe.
Others have pointed out, more eloquently than I will, that other places on the net will never give you this feeling. Sure, they may be great forums for socializing, or for getting your message out, but they will never feel like home in the same way a personal website can. Importantly, the things you build and share on those platforms are not yours. Your content, your network, your identity—all borrowed, all rented. When those platforms disappear, all of that goes with it. When those platforms enshittify, or jack up prices, or otherwise become places that are less hospitable, you realize they were never homes. They’re spaces owned by corporations, and subject to all that comes with that. They can add what they want. Take what they want. Remove your content. Delete your connections. They can force you to interact with those you don’t want to. You may never get a break from the noise.
We’re humans. We are social. So those spaces can be great for socializing. But most of us don’t want to live at the bar, or at the coffee shop, or in one of these social spaces. We all want some kinda place to retreat back to. A place of safety. Where all of our stuff is. A place to kick off the shoes. Be messy. Do whatever we want. So build yourself a website—welcome home.