By: Jenna Lark
Updated: Oct. 31, 2020
Originally Published: Feb. 2, 2017
Surprise my friend on any given day, and her house is always spotless. Her husband is a cleanliness enthusiast, her mother-in-law lives with them and shares the same obsession, and even her two older kids have been groomed to keep things tidy. I might joke that my baby niece is equipped with tiny mop attachments for her hands and knees, but you get the idea. My friend, once a self-proclaimed messy person, claims her husband inspired her to change her ways. Their home feels like a beautifully choreographed dance of order, with every family member playing their part to eliminate clutter.
My place? The total opposite, and I can’t help but feel envious.
I’ve always preferred my belongings to be organized, spotless, and visually pleasing. At my core, I’m a minimalist; clutter sends me into a spiral of anxiety. Growing up, I envisioned a space that would “welcome me with open arms,” to quote Oprah, not one where I’d trip over stray shoes. The problem? I refuse to clean up after anyone else.
My husband is a wonderful guy who puts in long hours and helps out around the house, but he is, without a doubt, a messy individual. There’s no ill intent; he’s simply oblivious to the trail of socks, receipts, and coffee cups he leaves behind. I tried to get him on board during the early days of our marriage, but let’s just say that effort has been a total bust. Our kids are messy too, which is par for the course, and I don’t hold it against them; I know teaching them is part of my job.
I’m genuinely trying to keep up with everything, but without dedicating my entire day to cleaning up messes I didn’t create, my home quickly descends into chaos. I’ve gone back and forth on how to handle this — sometimes surrendering and thinking, “This is just my life now.” I attempt to let my family’s mess slide beneath my radar like water under a bridge. I read articles offering advice on not changing your spouse and momentarily feel reassured that ignoring the clutter might be the right approach. I see those quirky wall prints declaring, “Excuse the mess. We live here,” and feel proud of my open-mindedness.
But then I visit my friend or binge-watch a season of a home renovation show, and suddenly I’m struck with a burst of motivation: “If we work together as a team, we can tackle this!” Armed with imaginary battle gear, I storm into the chaos wielding my broom like a sword, frantically urging my family to “PICK THIS UP! AND THAT! AND THOSE! GET TO IT!”
When I nag and point and raise my voice, they do eventually clean up their mess. So, it is possible to have a tidy home—provided I maintain constant vigilance over everyone all the time. But takes a deep breath if I look away for even a couple of hours, everything goes to shambles. Just last weekend, I had a deadline and needed to focus in my home office for the day. When I finally emerged, I was met with a kitchen piled high with dirty plates, crumpled aluminum foil, mugs, and napkins; shoes and helmets littered the hallway; toys were strewn across the living room; and mysterious sticky spots had appeared on the floor. I broke down in tears—ugly, incoherent sobbing. I turned my back for one day, folks. One day!
I’m beyond tired of surveying the mountains of discarded clothing, paperwork, Nerf darts, and dirty dishes, all of which aren’t mine. I’m fed up with grabbing the vacuum only to realize I first have to pick up everyone else’s stuff. I want to go on strike, to declare, “I won’t vacuum until you all clean up your mess!” But if I do, I’ll have to hover until that task is completed, because I know if I step away, it won’t get done.
I’m not asking for a kidney here. I just want my family to put their clothes in the hamper and dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I want to say, “Hey, clean the living room,” and have it actually happen. Why is this so challenging? Why can’t my family be like my friend’s — synchronized in our mission for a tidy home? I desperately wish my family cared as much.
But they don’t. So here I am, a neat freak in a sea of messiness, faced with a choice: Do I ignore the chaos and resent my surroundings, or do I nag my family into submission and end up resenting both them and myself? I genuinely want to know: what would you do? Because I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle, and I’m utterly spent.
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In summary, the struggle of maintaining a clean home amidst the chaos of a messy family can be exhausting. Balancing the desire for order with the reality of a household full of slobs is a challenge that many face. It’s a constant tug-of-war that leaves neat freaks feeling drained and overwhelmed.