I Broke the Most Important Design Rule When Remodeling My Living Room – And It Completely Transformed the Way We Use the Space

For years, I believed good living room design was all about working around the architecture you’re given – particularly in a historic home. Doors, entrances, and circulation routes, I thought they were untouchable.

So when we started remodeling our living room, the idea of removing doors (let alone blocking one up entirely) felt like a cardinal sin. Everything I thought I knew about the principles of interior design warned against it. Rooms needed boundaries. Flow mattered. And doors, apparently, are sacred.

But the more time I spent in the half-demolished space, the more I realized the doors were dictating the living room, not supporting it. According to interior design rules, a successful layout should balance flow, proportion, and function – yet our living room was doing the opposite. So, I threw the rulebook out the window. Here's why I'm so glad I did.

To set the scene, my living room isn't the largest, but it makes up for square footage with natural light that comes in from a large bay window at the front of the property.

Previously, there was a single door into the living room from the entryway that broke up the longest wall, leaving no space for a couch, and meant the room was less of a destination and more of a thoroughfare. Additionally, we also had a set of double sliding swirly-patterned glass doors (it was last renovated in the '70s) that led from the dining room into the living room.

So we decided to break what felt like the most important design rule of all.

In our case, that single doorway was eating into the most valuable part of the room: a long, uninterrupted wall that could comfortably accommodate our massive couch. Without it, every living room seating arrangement we tried felt awkwardly positioned.

So, we blocked up the single door to reclaim a full wall for the sofa and removed the sliding doors entirely, creating one wide, open-plan living room entrance from the dining room instead.

On paper, it went against everything I’d been taught about layout, flow, and rhythm in interior design. But in reality, it transformed the way the room feels – calmer, cozy, and actually designed around the way we wanted to use the space, rather than blindly following the 'rules'.

Once the wall was blocked up (and color-drenched, naturally), the room immediately made sense.

Sure, in a larger space, an interior designer might have suggested floating the couch, but we just don't have the width to play with in our 100-year-old home.

Now, the sofa can finally sit where it belongs, looks properly scaled to the space, and most importantly, is centered to the fireplace. Circulation and balance in the space improved, not because there were fewer awkward routes and paths to keep clear in the room, but because movement now happened around the seating area instead of cutting through it.

It was a good reminder that successful flow isn’t about the number of access points a room has – it’s about whether those routes support how the space is actually lived in.

Perhaps most surprisingly, removing that door didn’t make the living room feel less connected to the rest of the house. If anything, it did the opposite.

Of course, what made this decision work so well is where the living room sits within the house. Positioned at the front, it now has just one open-plan entry from the dining room, which itself naturally follows on from the main entryway space.

Instead of multiple doors entering the room in different directions, you move through the busier, more functional areas first, before arriving somewhere noticeably calmer.

With the sliding doors removed, the transition between dining room and living room feels super smooth – especially when we're hosting. Guests drift naturally from one space to the next, without the stop-start feeling that doors can sometimes create, and the living room feels connected but also cozy and tucked away.

Crucially, the space hasn’t lost its sense of privacy from removing all the doors. In fact, it feels more cocooning than ever. Sometimes, removing closed plan barriers can actually create a stronger sense of comfort.

Breaking design rules is only ever successful when it’s done thoughtfully and for good reason, however.

Before reworking the layout of our living room, I spent a lot of time thinking about how the space functioned beyond its floor plan – where it felt busiest, how we entered it most often, and the furniture scheme.

If you're facing a similar dilemma, you want to be sure to consider what you’re gaining as much as what you’re losing. Removing a doorway might mean less flexibility, but if it gives you a full wall for seating, improves balance, symmetry or visual clutter, it could be a worthwhile trade.

Looking back, breaking the so-called “rules” of the perfect living room layout wasn’t reckless – it was thoughtful. The biggest lesson I took from this decision is that often we get caught up in rules or ideas that sound good on paper, but don't actually work in practice in your own home. My living room is now calmer, more cohesive, and far more reflective of how we live – which I think makes it a job well done.