My Midlife Mess
I used to clean beneath the refrigerator. It was never pretty, but at least a couple of times a year I temporarily banished the pretty–sure-they’re-not-moving-on-legs dust balls, cat hair, and runaway vitamins. As I was on my hands and knees sponging up the potpourri of ugly, Grandma’s voice was in my head saying, “You can do better! A good, Godly, woman keeps a clean house.†And so, to be a “good†woman, I put in my workweek and then spent weekends—precious, precious, weekends—cleaning the minutia of our home.
Once I hit midlife I became increasing lax on cleaning those places that only God and spiders know about. Did I believe a guest was going to ask me to move the refrigerator so they could judge me on being a good woman? Well, yeah, a little bit. They sure as heck were not going to judge my husband if the house was less than tidy!
And to be honest, I still get panicky if someone drops by and the house is in chaos…which it is on most days. Grandma’s voice will not be silenced, nor will my cultural conditioning. It doesn’t matter that I’m trying to build a business and choose to prioritize my time on things that don’t involve a mop and Windex. It doesn’t matter that my messes—piles of silk scarves, photographs, and art supplies—are all things that make me feel alive and happy. It even doesn’t matter that my husband, in an attempt to be supportive, says he likes a “lived in†house. I somehow feel like I’m failing because I can’t keep up. I can’t do it all.
What’s strange is that when I visit other women’s homes I never see disarray. I revel in the time with them, the conversation, and the work/art/volunteering that make up their lives. I could freak’n care less if there is dust on the knickknacks. So why do I hold myself to a different standard? Grandma! Culture! Even my dad pushed me to be the housekeeper my mother was not. Maybe I’m doomed to a life constantly torn between artist and “good†woman.
So, my friends, enlighten me. How do you balance happiness and obligation? Or do you? Give me advice on how to be a messy, happy, artist and a good woman.
I have that same voice- must be a Minnesota thing! However, as I get older I care less and less about listening to it. I think all women should make a pact that we won’t look in any corners, or under the fridge, when we visit….and no one will look in ours!
The same voice…just one of the many things I love about you, Lynne. I want to let go of those silly compulsions, but they are tenacious! Thanks for dropping by my website…I’m truly honored.