Like a lot of you, I was triggered by this post. So much so that I smacked my phone to the table and made a juvenile face at it, then stomped away (to my sticky kitchen). “FINE,” I said. “FINE FINE FINE. Just another voice reminding me of the ways I SUCK at this damned woman-mother-housekeeper-crap. Just the way I needed to start my day.”
I later took a deep breath and re-read it, with a more careful, adult set of eyes. To my surprise, I realized that the author was describing and then reacting to the very sensation I had just experienced. She does something (in this case, prefers a clean house) and she feels like the universe is judging her for that choice. It hurts to feel judged, she says. She calls for accountability to one’s choices, and reminds us: it’s a choice.
To be clear, I had no idea that overly-clean houses were on the list of judgeable offenses. I’ve never had one, you see. My own house ranges from passable (good days) to tornado (usually). I, personally, find cleaning to be a stressor, not a stress-reducer.
Also, while I do very much enjoy Saturday Night Live’s Martha Stewart Mockery, I’d rather watch paint dry than watch her show (is it still on?). Related: I’m not really that into…painting. If I splurge, it’s never on anything for my house. Couches are for sitting; I really don’t care if they match. Some of the art hanging on my walls was originally purchased for my dorm room. A lot of it was created by a four-year old, and hangs with painter’s tape.
When someone shows up unannounced, the first thing I do is apologize. For the mess, for my messy kids, and for me: The Mess.
And the thing is, with my adult, feminist brain, I know that no one (who is worth my time) minds the mess. I have my priorities for a reason, and they’re MINE. Cleaning really isn’t one of them. If my bed feels more comfortable with an overflowing stack of books on the bedside table, that’s okay. I’m the one reading and sleeping there.
This is one of the gifts of feminism: Together, we cracked the mold of the prescribed female form: 36-24-36, a tidy home, quiet children, a cocktail for our husbands when they come through the door, a lipstick kiss, a shiny pink hair-bow. We can choose.
That valium-fueled reality (my grandmother’s reality, but not my mother’s) is still there, in my conscious and in our culture, as a standard I’ll (never, ever) meet. I don’t want to, but also? I couldn’t if I tried. The image lingers, though, in the gut reaction to that post. “You’re not tidy enough,” my grandmother’s standard’s whispers. “You fail.”
Apparently, Sarah’s lying whispers sound different. “You’re too clean,” they say. “What are your priorities, really?” Together, Sarah and I give the whispers the middle finger. We’re making our own choices, and we own them.
We need to stop doing this to ourselves. We need to evolve beyond this gut reaction, the very one I had when I slammed my phone on the table. I honor your priorities, whatever they are. I certainly don’t need your house to look like mine, your body to look like mine. Your clothes, your hair, your parenting style – they are yours. Anyone who whispers anything else is trying to put you into their mold. We can’t let them.
I think the most important point you make that the original article (and i feel many from the moms blog) didn’t is that the feeling of judgement usually comes from inside the individual: lying Whispers, not other moms or people actually sitting around judging your little life. That is thw universal you.
More than solidarity we need maturity and posts that are based on thoughtful consideration instead of not the gut reaction. I think your response was the former and the other was not. You had a reaction but then actually thought and didn’t take hwr cleanliness personally as she seemed to take the mesay house/making memories schtick. And anyway, who seriously gets offended by a saying or meme on an ecard or tshirt or coffee mug?
Taking a deep breathe and reflecting on the source of your own feelings was the big difference i see between your post and tha other. That’s how we realize it’s usually our own standards and judgements that bring us down mentally and emotionally, not those of anyone else.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful reply, Skye.
I agree, we really do need more thoughtful consideration and maturity. It’s always tough – for me, anyway – to untangle the stories I’m telling myself and the ones that truly are a part of our culture’s narrative.
This is especially true, since I think we have a long way to go in the expectations we hold for women. Still, the judgement I heap on myself tends to be the most hurtful (and personal!).
Again, thank you.