I Tried to Be Perfect, It Was a Disaster
Look, I’ll just come out and say it: I used to be one of those people. You know the type. The ones with color-coded pantries, who fold their towels like they’re on some kind of Japanese reality show. I was that person. And I was miserable.
It started innocently enough. About five years ago, over coffee at the little place on 3rd, my friend Lisa told me, “You should see my new organization system!” She pulled out her phone and showed me pictures of her spice rack. It was alphabetized. By first letter. I was hooked.
Fast forward to March 2018. My kitchen looked like a container ship had exploded in it. I had labeled everything. Everything. The lids were separated from the pots. The pots were separated by size. The pans were separated by material. It was a nightmare. My then-boyfriend, let’s call him Marcus, walked in and said, “What the hell happened in here?” I started crying. It was that bad.
Why We Obsess Over Perfect Homes
I’m not sure but I think it’s because we’re all trying to control something. Our homes are our castles, right? So we try to make them perfect. We watch shows about people with impeccable homes and we think, “I want that.” But here’s the thing: those people have teams. They have people whose job it is to make sure their homes look perfect. You and I? We have jobs. We have kids. We have lives.
I talked to a therapist about this once. Let’s call her Dr. Patel. She told me, “Perfection is the enemy of progress.” Which… yeah. Fair enough. But it’s hard to let go of that need for control.
The Day I Stopped Caring (And Started Living)
It was a Tuesday. I remember because it was the day before my sister’s birthday. I was at my mom’s house, helping her pack for a move. Her kitchen was a mess. A beautiful, lived-in, real mess. There were dishes in the sink, but there were also fresh flowers on the table. There were kids’ drawings on the fridge, but there was also a bottle of wine open and ready.
I looked around and I thought, “This is what a home should be.” Not a museum. Not a showroom. A home. A place where life happens.
Practical Advice from a Recovering Perfectionist
So, what did I learn? A lot. But mostly, I learned that it’s okay to let go. It’s okay to have a messy kitchen. It’s okay to not know where the matching lid is. It’s okay to have a home that looks like people actually live in it.
But look, I’m not saying you should stop caring entirely. There’s a middle ground. For example, when it comes to property insurance comparison guide, it’s important to take your time and make sure you’re covered. But when it comes to your home, it’s okay to let some things slide.
I still have my moments. Like last week, I found myself organizing my cleaning supplies by color. But then I stopped. I took a step back. And I poured myself a glass of wine instead.
A Tangent: The Great Sock Mystery
You know what’s really weird? Socks. I mean, where do they go? I’ve lost count of how many single socks I’ve found over the years. It’s like they just vanish into thin air. I asked my friend Dave about this once. He’s a physicist, so I figured he’d have an answer. He just shrugged and said, “Entropy, maybe?” Which honestly, nobody asked for but here we are.
Anyway, the point is, don’t stress about the socks. Or the dishes. Or the fact that your towels don’t match. Your home should be a reflection of you. And you, my friend, are not a showroom.
So go ahead. Let the dishes pile up. Let the kids color on the walls. Let the dog sleep on the couch. Your home will be better for it. And so will you.
About the Author
Sarah Jenkins is a senior editor with over 20 years of experience in the lifestyle niche. She’s written for major publications and has been featured in numerous anthologies. Sarah lives in Austin with her husband, two kids, and a dog named Buster. She is a recovering perfectionist and is still trying to figure out where her socks go.
