It doesn't matter why their homes are messy or why they didn't clean it. I'm not even going to go off on a Feminist Rant about why they perceive this as their "responsibility". All I know is I've been there so many times I've maxed out how many reward points I can earn in this club.
Should I, or anyone, feel guilty about a messy house?
The correct answer is "No."
(You know how you Google something and then have to search through a bunch of links before you find exactly what you're looking for? Go check out the results for "should I feel guilty about a messy house". I scrolled through four pages before finding something that wasn't related to "No".)
But we do feel guilty. If you don't, then bless you for making peace with it.
Preferring your home to be clean and tidy is not the same as feeling guilty when it's not. If you're the type of person who has the desire, as well as the time, energy, organizational skills, and the all-important freedom from disabilities to achieve clutter-free surfaces a person can eat off of, then you get down with your bad self and go for it. If you lack any of the necessary components between desire and achievement, give yourself a break and do what you are able to do.
(Here is where we give our collective sigh and bob our heads while chanting "I know... I know... but....")
I have the desire to keep the house clean. I want to keep up with the dog fur, spots on the floor, the laundry, the dust, and the several hundred unfinished projects around here. I can't. As I said, the "why" doesn't matter. I am unable to accomplish the tasks I want to do and I struggle with accepting it. But why do I expect more from myself than I am able to give? Who put these impossible expectations in my head? Parents? (doubtful) School? (no, good try...) June Cleaver? (ha... nope.) The little devil on my left shoulder? (getting warmer...) It actually doesn't matter how they got there. Living up to unrealistic (self-imposed, implied or explicit) expectations is a big waste of living. If it causes anxiety, it's too much. There is a lot out there that is too much for me and my tolerance level is dynamic. How do I learn to accept the current limit of my abilities? I have no idea. If you have any suggestions beyond the "just don't" or "just do" pseudo-help, I'm all ears.
Of course being a perfectionist is a problem. It took me so long to come to terms with the fact that I am a perfectionist because I'm not particularly good at it. I don't have the conscious compulsion to be perfect. My mind has cleverly figured out how to torture me with this through semantics: I don't need to do something perfectly. I just need to do it correctly. I'm a bad perfectionist and it took me years of circular reasoning to see it.
I had said to both Internet Friends that whoever was visiting wasn't coming to check out their homes. They dutifully bobbed their heads and said "I know... I know... but...." Honestly? When I'm at someone's house and it's perfectly clean, I know they cleaned because I was coming over and I know they stressed about it. I'm supposed feel good that my visit was worth the effort. Isn't that one of the reasons we do it? Cleaning the house before people come over is supposed to show them they are important to us but what it really says is "I don't want you to judge me." I look at my friends' sparkling home and end up judging myself because back at my place there's laundry sitting in the dryer, a pan from breakfast on the range, and tumbleweeds of dog fur rolling in the breeze. Theoretically it's so easy to clean as I go, put my clothes in the hamper instead of dropping them on the floor, sweep up dog fur while the coffee is brewing. Some days, I can. Most days, I can't.
I went over to a friend's house a few months ago. Her house was a wreck. Yes, I noticed but I wasn't horrified. I wasn't even concerned. I know she has kids and a home-based business. I know she's usually running around like a maniac. I know she deals with depression. She didn't apologize for it. She didn't make excuses. The best part of this? We're relatively new friends and not only did I not care about the mess but I felt honored that she trusted me enough to know I wouldn't judge her.
Why can't I stop judging myself?
There are so many wonderful blog posts and books that discuss how perfectionism, guilty, shame, self-esteem, depression, and anxiety are all interwoven. What I haven't found yet is a set of instructions on how to transfer what I know in my head to feeling it in my heart. I need to know how to live it. Little by little, I'll get there. This post was a step; I didn't give into my habit of defending why I did/didn't do something. And it only took me 6 drafts!
Edit: If you are having trouble keeping up with your own home and need some guidance and/or motivation, check out UFYH..... but only if you don't mind some colorful language.
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