Making My Tiny Dark Apartment Feel Less Cave-Like: What I Learned About Biophilic Design (Especially Flooring)

Okay, so “biophilic design” sounds super fancy and intimidating, right? Like something you’d see in a $3,000/month loft with floor-to-ceiling windows and a rooftop garden that I definitely can’t afford. But after two years of trying to make my shoebox studio feel less like a sensory deprivation chamber, I’ve learned that biophilic design is basically just a fancy term for “bringing nature indoors when you have no access to actual nature.”

And honestly? It works. Even when you’re working with a space that gets about as much natural light as a basement and a budget that’s mostly student loan payments.

What Actually Is Biophilic Design?

So I first heard about biophilic design from this Instagram account I follow (@apartmenttherapy, if you’re curious) during one of my 2am “why does my apartment make me feel dead inside” research spirals. Turns out there’s actual science behind why Patricia (my first plant) made me feel less terrible during the pandemic.

Biophilic design is basically about incorporating natural elements into built environments because humans literally evolved to be around nature, not fluorescent-lit boxes. It’s not just about throwing some succulents on your windowsill and calling it a day – though honestly, that’s where I started.

The research is actually pretty wild. I read that workers with natural elements in their workspace report 15% higher wellbeing, and hospital patients recover faster when they can see trees from their rooms. Which makes sense when you think about how much better I felt after setting up my little plant corner versus when I was just staring at white walls all day.

Here’s what I’ve learned biophilic design actually includes:

• Connection With Nature: This can be direct (actual plants, natural light) or indirect (materials that look natural, nature-inspired patterns)
• Natural Light & Air: Maximizing whatever natural light you have and improving air quality
• Organic Textures & Materials: Wood, stone, cork – stuff that feels earthy even if it’s not actually from outside

The cool thing is you don’t need a gorgeous loft to make this work. My building’s rooftop garden project is basically biophilic design on a budget – we used recycled materials to create raised beds and a seating area where people can actually see sky and feel wind. It’s not Instagram-perfect, but it gives residents access to nature when our individual apartments are basically caves.

I’ve seen some amazing examples of this in Chicago too. The Garfield Park Conservatory has these incredible spaces where you forget you’re indoors. Some of the newer affordable housing developments are incorporating green walls and better natural light access, which gives me hope that this isn’t just for rich people forever.

Why This Actually Matters (Especially If You’re Broke and Urban)

Look, I wasn’t thinking about “biophilic design” when I bought Patricia. I was just desperately trying not to have a complete mental breakdown in my tiny apartment. But learning about the research behind why bringing nature indoors actually works has made me more intentional about the changes I make.

Here’s why incorporating natural elements into your space isn’t just aesthetic Instagram nonsense:

• Stress Reduction: Having plants and natural textures around genuinely makes me feel calmer. My anxiety is still there, but it’s more manageable when I’m surrounded by green things instead of just beige walls.
• Better Focus: I noticed I can actually concentrate better when I’m working at my kitchen table with my plants nearby versus when I was just staring at a blank wall. Studies back this up – people are more productive in spaces with natural elements.

The thing is, access to nature and well-designed living spaces shouldn’t be a luxury, but they basically are if you’re young and broke in a city. Most affordable apartments are designed terribly – minimal natural light, no outdoor access, cheap materials that feel synthetic and depressing. It’s not an accident that people with more money get better living environments.

But you can work with what you have. Here’s what I mean:

• Direct connection: Even if you only have one crappy window, you can maximize whatever natural light you get and add plants that can handle low light conditions.
• Indirect connection: You can choose materials and textures that feel natural even if they’re not expensive. My cork board wall covering cost like $30 from Home Depot but adds warmth and texture that makes the space feel less sterile.

The key is understanding that small changes can have big impacts on how you feel in your space. You don’t need to completely renovate – sometimes just switching out harsh lighting for something warmer or adding texture through textiles can make a huge difference.

Flooring: The Foundation of Making Your Space Feel Less Terrible

Okay, so talking about flooring feels kind of ridiculous when you’re a renter in a cheap apartment. Like, I’m not about to rip up the builder-grade linoleum in my studio and install hardwood floors. But I’ve learned there are ways to work with what you have and make your floors feel more connected to nature without losing your security deposit.

Here’s what I’ve figured out about making floors feel more biophilic:

• Add texture with rugs that mimic natural patterns – I found this jute rug at a thrift store that has an organic, woven texture that feels way more natural than walking on cold linoleum.
• Layer different materials to create visual interest – my small space rug is layered over a larger, neutral rug to create zones and add depth.
• Choose colors and patterns inspired by nature – earth tones, stone-like textures, anything that doesn’t scream “cheap apartment building.”

I’ve been following some accounts focused on renter-friendly design hacks, and people get really creative with temporary flooring solutions. Peel-and-stick tiles that look like wood or stone, removable vinyl flooring, even just strategically placed rugs can transform how a space feels underfoot.

The goal isn’t to perfectly replicate a forest floor or whatever – it’s to create tactile experiences that feel more organic than walking on builder-grade carpet or linoleum. Even small changes like adding a textured doormat or a soft rug in your sleeping area can make the space feel more intentional and less institutional.

For renters specifically, focus on what you can add rather than what you can’t change:

• Rugs with natural textures – jute, wool, cotton
• Floor cushions for seating that add softness and warmth
• Removable floor coverings if your lease allows them

The research on this stuff is still developing, but the basic idea makes sense – if touching and seeing natural textures makes us feel better, then the surfaces we walk on every day should contribute to that instead of making us feel like we’re living in a office building.

The Real Benefits (From Someone Who’s Actually Tried This Stuff)

Look, I’m not going to pretend that adding some plants and changing my lighting solved all my problems or turned my studio into a wellness retreat. But after two years of intentionally making my space feel more connected to nature, there are definitely real improvements in how I feel at home.

Here’s what I’ve actually noticed:

• Less Anxiety: My space feels calmer now. Having natural textures and living things around makes the apartment feel less sterile and depressing.
• Better Air Quality: This one’s measurable – my plants actually do improve air quality, and I’ve noticed I sleep better since adding them.

The mental health benefits are real but hard to quantify. I just know I feel less trapped and claustrophobic in my tiny space when it’s full of green things and natural textures versus when it was just beige walls and harsh lighting.

Some other changes I’ve noticed since making my space more biophilic:

• More creativity: I actually enjoy spending time in my apartment now instead of avoiding it
• Better focus: I can work from home without feeling completely dead inside

The Numbers Don’t Lie

I’m not a researcher, but the studies on this stuff are pretty convincing. Here’s some data I found while going down research rabbit holes:

Benefit	Statistic
Stress reduction	20%-30% increase in calmness reported
Cognitive improvement	8%-15% productivity boost

The thing that gets me is how much of this research exists, but most affordable housing completely ignores it. Like, we know that access to natural light and green space improves mental health, but developers keep building apartments with one tiny window and no outdoor access because it’s cheaper.

That’s why I think it’s important to share what I’ve learned about making these spaces work better. If you can’t afford to move somewhere with better natural light and outdoor access, at least you can make small changes that improve how your current space feels.

Making It Work in Real Life

After all this trial and error, here’s what I’ve learned about bringing biophilic design into a small, dark, cheap apartment:

• Start small and build up – you don’t need to transform everything at once
• Focus on what makes the biggest impact for the least money – lighting changes and plants gave me the most bang for my buck

The goal isn’t to create some perfect Instagram-worthy space. It’s to make your actual living situation feel less terrible and more connected to the natural world, even when you’re stuck in a urban box with no budget for major changes.

This stuff matters because where we live affects our wellbeing, and most young people in cities are dealing with similar space and budget constraints. If sharing what I’ve figured out helps other people make their apartments feel less depressing, that seems worth doing.

The reality is that truly biophilic design – spaces that genuinely connect us with nature – should be accessible to everyone, not just people who can afford luxury apartments with great natural light and outdoor access. Until that happens, we have to get creative with what we have.

And honestly? Even small changes add up. My studio still has terrible natural light and I still live six feet from where I work, but it feels like a home now instead of just a place where I keep my stuff. That’s something.