This question came to me during a two-month road trip through the Yukon and the North last summer. As we traveled across wild landscapes and remote stretches of road, I began reflecting on the deep human connection to shelter and how that connection still influences us today.
Whether you’re building from scratch or updating a beloved home, the process often stirs more emotion than expected. In this article, I explore why renovations feel so personal, drawing from psychology, our shared human history, and what it truly means to create a place called home.
I am currently traveling through the vast, untamed wilderness north of the Arctic Circle, passing through plains, mountains, and rivers. I can’t help but wonder what it was like for the first prehistoric humans who arrived in North America via the Bering Land Bridge thousands of years ago [1]. After marveling at the stunning, untouched landscape, they likely had to quickly set up shelters to protect themselves from the harsh environment and find food.
Thankfully, most of our species migrated south to much warmer climates. Over centuries, we evolved our shelter-building techniques into the construction of sedentary, luxurious modern houses that provide much more comfort than our ancestors ever experienced. We have created a sophisticated, complex way of living and now enjoy a life of ease. Our North American homes boast luxurious bathrooms, gourmet kitchens with a wide range of appliances, individual laundry rooms, private bedrooms, and complex integrated domotic, heating, and cooling systems.
Our homes have evolved from mere shelters into our private sanctuaries, a place where we feel safe and secure, where we can be ourselves and be vulnerable. They reflect our identity and personal tastes, providing us with order and predictability. It is natural that when we move to a new house or have lived in one for years, we want to make it our own by renovating it. Some of us even prefer to build a new home from the ground up.
However, building and renovating a home is much more than a physical process. It taps into our primal need for a safe shelter, challenges our identity, and involves significant emotional investment. Renovation often means altering a part of ourselves and stepping out of our comfort zone, which can be both exciting and daunting. When a contractor and their crew arrive to demolish our nest right before our eyes, it can be an emotional upheaval, disrupting our daily routines. The invasion of our personal space is uncomfortable and unsettling. Understanding where these emotions come from can help us navigate the renovation process with more awareness and resilience.
In 1943, American psychologist Abraham Maslow proposed that we must first take care of our physiological needs—such as shelter, breathing, food, water, clothing, and sleep—in order to thrive as human beings. Only then can we address our needs for safety, family, love, self-esteem, and higher achievement. He created his famous Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs [2] to help us understand ourselves better, perhaps giving us a hint as to why renovations affect us so deeply.
If we really think about it, within the complexities of our modern world, our deep-seated survival instinct still prioritizes protecting our shelter. It makes sense that when a construction crew arrives to renovate our home, it triggers fundamental emotions, making us feel sensitive.
So if you’re feeling overwhelmed in the middle of a renovation or anxious about starting one, know this: You’re not just building a home—you’re rebuilding your sense of self. And that’s worth every emotion along the way.
