My Happy Place

It's one of those poplar questions to be asked; 'where is your happy place?' Upon being asked this many people would surely struggle to find an immediate answer. How many people really know where they are truly happy?

I've given two answers to this question (well two aloud anyway). One being my gran's house and the other (in later years) being the cancer research shop. I guess it's quite sad, having a shop as your happy place but it's such a cute shop and it makes me feel like I'm doing good in the world. Surely no charity shop purchase can be seen as a bad buy?

Not the usual answers I suppose although I'm not entirely sure what a 'usual' answer would be. I suppose it would be a park or a city; somewhere with many memories attached to it. Happy memories likely to span many years. The truth is I probably do have places like this just not any that immediately come to mind (well done for the awful memory Aimee). 

These were the answers I would have given if I had been asked this prior to a few weeks ago because, a few weeks ago I realised I had been wrong. I realised that my happy place wasn't a house or a shop, it was a room, my bedroom.

Sad as it may be it is the place I am happy. In my own company in a familiar place. Plus, what's not to love? I am surrounded by a lifetime of presents, purchases and pictures. I can sit and observe all the aspects of my room that I love and which bring me happiness, as described in more detail here (ooo a hyperlink, how fancy). After all, how can you not love the place that is the best portrayal of who you are that exists?

Without sounding too much like a loner with no friends (which is hard to do when that's pretty much what I am), I do enjoy my own company and the freedom to do whatever I want. The absolute bliss of being able to watch a film, read a book or blog without having to leave my room is something I treasure.

It's not always being alone that makes me happy. I love meeting people (in my room) or calling people (in my room). No, in all honesty I do like going out and actually doing things in my life but, at the end of the day all I really want is to crawl back into my bed and watch an episode of Gogglebox for the 15th time (I wish I was exaggerating).

It would be silly to say my room (or more importantly my bed) is the only thing that makes me happy. The list isn't that simple. Who could say a walk in the country or on the beach isn't one of the most relaxing and fulfilling past times which allows so much happiness to be felt? A sense of relief and a carefree nature. But of course there is no happiness quite like being in the comfort and security of Jack's arms at the end of a bad day (#cringe).

I guess it doesn't matter really, where your happy place is, as long as you know where it is so, at the end of a long, stressful day, you can crawl (not literally or you will resemble the mental state of the female in 'The Yellow Wallpaper') and be happy.

--- Aimee ---