A home you can leave without dismantling
This Venus reads Sagittarius and lives in the 4th house, which produces a domestic life arranged so that it never quite closes around you. You want somewhere warm to return to and you do not want it to be a commitment you cannot get out of.
So your home is comfortable and light: few possessions that would be difficult to move, an arrangement that could be changed, doors that stay open. It works well and it means you have sometimes avoided putting down roots that you would actually have enjoyed.
Hospitality with no ceremony attached
People are welcome at your house whenever, with whatever is available, and nothing is staged. That informality is genuinely relaxing and it means the guests who need an invitation and a date never come. Issue one proper invitation a season, since your usual open door only works for people who are comfortable walking through it uninvited.
What makes a place home is portable
What makes somewhere home for you is not the building but the sense of possibility around it, which is why you can reconstruct a life somewhere new within a few months. That is a real capacity. Know that it is the possibility you need rather than the place, since it explains why an entirely comfortable house can start to feel like a trap.
A family you love from a distance
Your relationship with where you came from is affectionate and conducted mostly from elsewhere, and this arrangement suits you better than proximity would. There is nothing wrong with it. Do the small maintenance, though: a regular call at a fixed hour keeps the connection alive far more reliably than the intense visit twice a year.
Restless in a house that is working perfectly well
A settled, functioning domestic life can produce an urge to change something for no reason you can name, and you have moved house on that impulse more than once. Feed it with something smaller. A long trip, a rearranged room, a season somewhere else: all considerably cheaper than acting on the impulse at full scale.
Living together works with an exit visible
Domestic partnership suits you as long as nothing about it feels like a door closing: separate friends, separate plans, the assumption that neither of you has stopped being a person with somewhere else to be. Say that at the start, in those words. Left unsaid, it gets discovered as an absence and answered with more holding on, which is the one response certain to make you want the door.
You work best with somewhere to come back to
A base you can leave and return to suits your output better than either a fixed desk or permanent movement: somewhere to think, plan and recover between the parts of the job that take you out. Arrange it deliberately rather than accepting whichever extreme an employer happens to offer, since the arrangement in between is rarely proposed unless somebody asks for it by name.
The relative who lives somewhere else
You are the one who moved, and the family has arranged itself around your absence, sometimes with more feeling about it than anyone has said. Ask once, directly, rather than assuming it is fine. The answer is usually generous and it is worth hearing rather than inferring from twenty years of nobody mentioning it.
Somewhere to come back to
The freedom you want works considerably better with a fixed point behind it: a house, a town, a person, something that stays put while you do not. That is not a contradiction of how you live. It is the thing that turns a life of movement into a life with a shape rather than a series of departures.
Every move costs more than the last one saved
Changing address is expensive in ways that never enter the decision: the deposit, the furniture replaced, the month of eating out because nothing is unpacked. You have done it often and never totalled any of it. Put the real figure into the next decision, since knowing what the restlessness actually costs is what turns it from a reflex into something you are choosing.