Earlier this week, I found myself swaying in a hammock, half-asleep, half-awake, when a thought crept in: I’ve spent so much of my life wondering where else I could be, anywhere other than home.

It’s ironic because I often write about the importance of slowing down, embracing the quiet, and appreciating the simplicity of life. Yet, when life forces me to stop, like it did recently after another small surgery, I find myself still fighting and resisting. Slowing down has never been graceful for me. Resilience, has always gelt less like a badge of honor and more like an annoying reminder that I can’t always run, jump, and explore the way I want. Admitting that it’s been hard is extremely uncomfortable to admit, but it’s the truth.

Social media doesn’t make it easier. The algorithm is vast but still feeds us this narrative that happiness comes packages in a fast-paced lifestyle. The ability to book a plane overseas to Malta overnight or to afford Hermes scarves as soon as they drop, but these ideas of luxury don’t really hold value in life. A world where success is measured by the ability to swipe your card without hesitation. Now I love luxury, who’s to say I don’t. I spend my money on Coach bags, sweats from Brandi Melville, and every other over-consumption core thing that promises that slice of luxury. But to me they don’t really mean anything. I go swipe my card in the name of luxury but later realize they don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Over time I started to realize luxury means something different to me. Something a bit more meaningful and lasting. Luxury feels like a long conversation with my parents about their lives before mine listening to their highschool romance stories. It’s the quiet comfort of sitting in silence with my sister as she folds her laundry in her apartment, knowing nothing needs to be said. It’s laughing with my best friend until we cry over a bottle of wine. It’s even taking my dog with me for a coffee I know he can’t even have. The definition of luxury started changing in my mind. Memories that are desirable and lasting create a life of comfort. As I sat on my hammock, no thought or noise around me, I realized that luxury to me is the peace I surround myself with.

The memories I collect, the experiences I pocket away hoping to stumble upon years later, those are the simple moments that I define as luxury.

I could buy another Coach bag tomorrow (and I probably will), but it still wouldn’t compare to sipping a cup of chai by the pool. the sun warming my skin, with nowhere else I needed to be.

That, to me, is luxury.