I went to a high school that had all kinds of electives you could take and the older you got, the more "free" slots you could have to schedule these electives. So with every passing grade, the more classes I was able to schedule outside of the normal english, math, science, history realm. Which meant by the time I was a senior essentially half of my classes were spent in one room, my elective of choice - architecture.
I was all about it, the model building, the computer programs, the precision, it was my favorite time spent. But, unlike all of the other students in the class, I kept focusing more what was inside the homes, rather than getting creative with their exteriors. One semester our assignments was to build a to-scale tree house, accounting for each beam and supporting joist, the whole works. I finished early and ended up building to-scale furniture (including a desk with a small pencil and notebook) because I thought a treehouse isn't a treehouse without the fun stuff.
There was this constant notion in my head that a home is not a home until it feels lived in, and the only way a place feels lived in is with furniture. Furniture and accessories and lighting that reflects the home owners style. And with that it was good bye architecture, and hello interior design degree.
Yes, that was the longest explanation to how I got to where I am. But it was also to explain that at the same time (in my head) it's whats inside the home that matters, that doesn't mean I don't appreciate a stunning exterior.