People often return to their childhood homes to revisit earlier versions of themselves, according to psychotherapist and author Julia Samuel. Recently, she visited her childhood home in Kensington, west London, which she had not seen since she was 23, 43 years ago. The house had been sold, but she felt a strong emotional connection to it. As she approached, she recalled memories of family picnics, school sports days, and sneaky cigarettes behind bushes as a teenager. She noticed that the house had been extended by later owners, and some features, like the two stone eagles at the entrance, had disappeared. However, other elements, such as the coal hole in the front wall, remained. She chose not to enter the house, preferring to preserve the memory of its original form. She realized that people return to childhood homes not for the building itself, but to revisit the emotional self they once were. Children remember the emotional atmosphere of home as much as its architecture, and these early experiences shape their understanding of safety, belonging, love, and family. Comedian Alexei Sayle described returning to his childhood home in Anfield, Liverpool, after a decade as a "surprisingly gruelling emotional experience." The house, which he had left in 1971, had not changed much, but the surrounding area had deteriorated significantly. He recalled memories of playing in the street, walking to school, and visiting the shops. The dairy at the end of Valley Road, which once had cows, had been converted into housing. He also noted the economic decline and redevelopment issues affecting the area. However, he found some hope in grassroots initiatives, such as the Homebaked Cooperative Bakery, which had been reopened after the Liverpool Biennial art festival. Novelist Esther Freud recalled living in a converted laundry in East Sussex between the ages of eight and 14. The house, owned by an American, was a significant part of her childhood. She remembered meals around a big old kitchen table, feasts from an Aga, and the rituals of family life. The house was also a place of both joy and anguish, and she felt a deep connection to it even after returning decades later. The house had changed, but the memories remained with her, shaping her character and understanding of family. Writer Deborah Levy described her childhood home in Johannesburg, South Africa, as a safe place where solitude could be experienced without anxiety. She recalled the bungalow in Norwood, where she lived with her family, and the memories associated with it, including the giant sack of oranges in the pantry and the record player in the lounge. The house represented the turbulent African part of her biography, and she felt that the child in the house was a ghost child who haunted every book she had written. Novelist and artist Guy Gunaratne reflected on his childhood home in Neasden, north-west London, where his family lived between the ages of three and nine. The house had a pebbledash exterior, characterful bay windows, and a narrow back garden. His father, who was part of the first wave of south Asian immigration into the UK, used property ownership as a hedge against future precarity. The family moved around often, but only within a five-mile radius. Gunaratne recalled memories of watching his brother leave for school from an upstairs window, the scent of his half-sister’s hairspray in the hall, and finding a pigeon asleep near the farthest fence in the back garden. He also reflected on how his father would have viewed his current choice to live in cooperative housing in north London. Novelist Chloe Aridjis described her childhood home in Wassenaar, Netherlands, where her family lived for nearly three years during the late 1970s. The house was the ambassador’s residence, and she had not returned since she was five. During a visit to her childhood friend in Amsterdam, she was close to revisiting the house but was denied entry. She remembered the house as the largest she had ever lived in, with many rooms and furnishings that had been borrowed from previous families. The garden was a highlight of her childhood, with groves of deciduous trees, a 350-year-old beech, and a black labrador retriever named Tarzan who would pull her through the snow on an orange plastic sled. She felt that the house belonged more to the adults, while the garden belonged to her and her sister. After returning to Mexico, she moved into a normal-sized house and felt more at home.