I genuinely appreciate you, which is precisely why I can’t invite you into my home. And no, it’s not because it’s disorganized. UNLESS… you wouldn’t mind a bit of chaos? Would that reflect my comfort level with you and hint at the fact that my life is as unpredictable as yours? Is it evidence that I’m more focused on making memories with my loved ones than maintaining a pristine space? A sign that, like you, I’m merely human and not some relentless cleaning machine?
Did you say yes to all that? Well, I’ve got a surprise for you! You still can’t come in! Because I have a secret. My home is actually not messy at all. Not even a little. But before you jump to conclusions, understand that this isn’t about being superior or creating some façade.
When my dishes pile up, laundry is left undone, or my floors are dirty, I genuinely struggle to breathe. And if I can’t breathe, trust me, it’s not a pretty scene. Nobody wants to be around me in those moments, not even me. My anxiety ensures that.
Yes, I have a daily routine I stick to, both morning and night, sometimes even during the day. But this ritual is all about me. It’s when I feel the healthiest. When things are out of order, I feel lost, overwhelmed, and irritable. If I don’t address the chaos immediately, I panic, fearing I’ll never catch up again. So, when I’m cleaning, I’m not just tidying up; I’m really trying to cleanse my spirit.
Is it strange that I find joy in the smell of cleaning products and organizing my wardrobe? Perhaps. But I promise you, I don’t have it all figured out. I have my share of messy days too, where I’m in pajamas and my hair is a mess.
Just because my space is tidy doesn’t mean you have to hide yours. My need for order is confined to my own home; your space doesn’t faze me at all. So, go ahead and be comfortable in your environment while I do the same in mine. That’s the beauty of friendship—embracing and loving each other’s quirks.
And don’t worry; my kids still have plenty of fun. Sure, it might be one toy bin at a time (just kidding… mostly). We explore the outdoors, bake together, and craft—just not with glitter, please, my anxiety can’t handle that. Often, they don’t even notice me tidying up behind them.
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In summary, my home may be tidy, but it’s not a reflection of my worth or your lack of it. We all have our own ways of navigating life, and that’s what makes friendships meaningful.
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