I genuinely like you, which is exactly why I can’t let you into my house. And no, it’s not because it’s a disaster—unless, of course, you wouldn’t mind the chaos. Would that imply a level of comfort between us, perhaps a nod to the fact that my life is just as hectic as yours? Is it an indication that I’m more interested in creating memories with my family than maintaining appearances? Could it mean that I’m just as human as you, not some relentless cleaning machine?
If you answered yes to all that, well, congratulations! You’ve fallen for my little trick because I have a confession: my home isn’t messy at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. But this isn’t because I’m more organized than you or because I want to maintain a façade. It’s because when my dishes pile up, the laundry lingers, or my floors are dirty, I struggle to breathe. And trust me, if I can’t breathe, you definitely won’t want to be near me. I’ve learned the hard way that my anxiety thrives in chaos.
Every day, I follow a strict routine, both morning and night, and sometimes even between those times. But this isn’t for anyone else; it’s a necessity for my own well-being. When my surroundings are disordered, I lose my sense of self. I become overwhelmed, frustrated, and unproductive. If I don’t tackle the mess quickly, panic sets in, making me feel like I’ll never catch up again. When I’m scrubbing my floors, I’m also cleansing my spirit.
Is it weird that I find joy in the smell of bleach, organizing my closet, or decluttering? Maybe, but I promise you I’m just as lost as the next person, and yes, I too have days where I stay in pajamas with tangled hair. You shouldn’t feel like you have to hide your home just because mine is tidy. It’s important to note that my anxiety is contained within my own walls; your space doesn’t trigger me in the same way. So, let’s embrace our differences and continue to cherish our friendship.
As for making memories, my kids still engage in plenty of fun activities. Sure, we might tackle one bin of toys at a time, but we go on adventures, bake, and craft—just not with glitter; my sanity can’t handle that! Often, they’re unaware of my discreet tidying up while they play.
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In summary, inviting someone into your home can feel like a daunting task when personal anxiety and preferences come into play. It’s essential to appreciate and respect each other’s spaces while sharing joyful experiences together.
Keyphrase: why I can’t invite you into my home
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