What I Learn From Where My Cat Chooses to Lay

I pay attention to where my cat decides to lay probably more than I should admit out loud. But honestly? She tells me more about my home than any design rule ever has. Cats don’t care about what looks good. They don’t care about “styling” or “aesthetics” or what would make sense on Instagram. They go where the energy is right. Period.

And watching her has taught me a lot.

She always finds the warmest spot. Emotionally, not just literally.

She’ll curl into the corner that feels the safest, the softest, the most out of the way but still in the mix. Never right in the center. Always on the edge of things, but close enough to be part of what’s happening.

It makes me think about how we choose where we rest, too. Where our bodies actually relax, not where we think we “should” be relaxing.

Cats don’t overthink it. They just go where it feels good. There’s a lesson in that.

She always picks texture over trend.

A perfectly styled chair?

She could not care less.

But a blanket that’s been washed a thousand times, or the old rug that’s a little worn in the middle?

That’s her paradise.

Comfort beats aesthetics every single time. And somehow, that makes the room feel more honest.

More lived-in. Less like a showroom and more like a real home.

She avoids anything that feels unsettled.

If something is even slightly off - a chair out of rhythm, a lamp too bright, a space that hasn’t quite found its identity yet - she won’t touch it.

She’ll glance. She’ll hesitate. She’ll turn around and head somewhere else.

But the second I fix the thing - move a plant, soften the light, shift a piece back into alignment - she’s there again. Circling once. Settling.

She shows me when a room feels “okay,” even before I consciously notice it.

She finds the good light without trying.

Morning sun? She’s there.

Soft afternoon glow? She relocates.

That warm stripe of golden hour that hits the hallway at exactly the right angle?

Front-row seat.

She chases light the way humans chase comfort food.

And the thing is… she’s right.

Rooms feel different at different times of day.

Your home isn’t one static thing. It’s always shifting.

Lighting, mood, weather, energy - all of it changes the whole landscape.

She reminds me to pay attention to that.

She teaches me what comfort actually looks like.

Not curated.

Not styled.

Not for show.

Just… comfort. Instinctive, unbothered comfort.

She chooses places that feel calm. Places that feel familiar. Places that feel like nothing is expected of her.

And weirdly… those always end up being the spots where I feel the most at ease too.

It’s like she points out the emotional “warm spots” in the house - the ones I created without meaning to.

So here’s what I’ve learned:

If you really want to understand the mood of your home - not how it looks, but how it feels - watch where your animals go.

They don’t fall for trends.

They don’t posture.

They’re not trying to impress anyone.

They just go where the energy is good.

And honestly?

That’s probably the most accurate design assessment you’ll ever get.

— Symone

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