I’ve written about my obsession with a clean house on this blog. The struggle is real.
Talking with a group of women at my office a couple of weeks ago, I discovered that I am no where near unique in my struggle. My friend said that she feels frantic when she gets home sometimes. She feels like her entire house will fall apart if she doesn’t clean it and clean it NOW. She feels like she can’t rest until the house if picked up.
And I feel the same way. I feel like I’m failing. I feel like if my house is messy, something is wrong with me. I feel like if my house is messy, I am not doing my duty as a wife. Or as a woman. Or just as myself. I love it when my house is clean.
But, when we were talking, we talked about what cleaning compulsively costs, and who it’s really benefiting. When I clean like a crazy women and I don’t really need to, I’m not doing it for my family. I’m not doing it for my husband. I’m doing it for myself. I’m doing it to make myself feel better. And Husband-Man gets neglected. No one talks to him, and he gets sad.
So, I have to put the broom down and wait for a while before the cleaning-monster comes out. I have to really think about who I’m cleaning for, and what will help my family the most. And most of the time, the best thing isn’t cleaning to make me feel better. It’s sitting on the couch and making fun of a horrible movie with Husband-Man.
Do you selfishly clean?