Hosting as a Safe Space
I grew up in a Southern home in Lafayette, Louisiana, that was always buzzing with people. I remember my parents making late-evening, last-minute runs to the local Winn-Dixie, trying to scrounge up rotisserie chickens, Ruffles, and French onion dip because they’d decided to host at the last minute or had friends visiting from out of town. I remember the warmth of having a house full of people and bothering the adults to entertain me so I could show off my dolls and tea sets.
As I got older, our house, now in a different zip code and two stories taller, was still at the heart of comfort, community, and gathering. By the time I got to high school, my mom affectionately called it “the Kool-Aid house.” It became the place my friends wandered in and out of for a meal or to hang out before a football game. I didn’t consider it hosting then. I just knew I enjoyed making people feel comfortable in a space that was mine.
Now, in my mid-twenties, hosting and community are at the heart of who I am. I enjoy curating a space people actually want to come to, spend time in, and let their guard down enough to just be. I want people to feel at home in my home.
Sometimes it feels like there are very few places that truly make space for a person to be their entire self and feel comfortable and confident doing so. Relationships can become transactional or reduced to a semiannual dinner catch-up at a restaurant that can’t quite capture the intimacy of a friend welcoming you into their home or an evening created with you in mind.
There’s something incredibly intentional about receiving an invitation from someone who is genuinely looking forward to hosting you. Someone who thinks about the guest list and brings together personalities that complement one another. I believe people have so much depth and that there’s always more to learn about each other. Creating a sense of belonging gives us the space to discover more of it.
Every time I host, I make a point to separate myself from the party for a moment and just watch everyone interact. I live for the deep belly laughs and everyone talking over each other during a game of Spades. Those are the moments when I know people feel at home.
Maybe that’s why hosting feels so safe to me. It’s one of the few places where joy can be intentionally created. It’s a controlled environment in the best way. I choose the music, the lighting, the food, and the people. For those few hours, my cozy little space feels like the safest place in the world, a place where danger and worry seem just a little farther away.
