It Matters to Me
The other day I was catching up on blogs and such for myself and Holl & Lane when I stumbled on this post from Design for Mankind.
I cannot even begin to explain to you guys how much this really hit home to me.
I don't know how any times I catch myself asking Mr. T to do things that I assume are natural. Wipe off the counters. Fold the blankets in the living room. Put the remotes back.
I can look at a room and find 994 things out of place. But he can look at a room and see nothing. It drives me crazy. I mean, how in the world can you not notice the crumbs on the coffee table?
I've always had a hard time with this. And it's one of the biggest reasons for our fights. Because sometimes I just can't take it anymore. I just get overwhelmed with being responsible for every single damn thing in our home. I get tired of taking care of us. It makes me want to scream.
And, yes, I always feel guilty for feeling like that. He does a lot for us.
I've tried lots of things to change my mind set. But most articles just talk about how dumb I am and why those things don't really matter. And I always find myself screaming "BUT IT MATTERS TO ME!" So I have a super hard time with articles like that.
I'll be honest. I have no idea why those things matter to me. Mama C usually blames it on my grandma. I'm so much like her it's crazy. And I also think I get some of it from my dad. But I truly I don’t know why, but they do. I always wish I could explain it. And maybe if I understood the craziness I could make it stop. But they just do. They matter. And maybe it is really stupid or immature or something. And maybe someday these things won't matter. But they do right now and I don't think I should have to feel guilty because they do matter. There's nothing wrong with me. And all I really want is for Mr. T to understand that they matter to me too. So trying to find a way to make them not matter never works.
But then I read that post and I had the most AHA moment that I've ever had in my entire life.
The fight she describes about the toaster sounded all too familiar. Mr. T and I had that EXACT fight about the coffee pot. We move it out so the steam doesn't ruin the cabinets. He always makes the coffee and usually pours us a cup. But every single day after he leaves I have to move it back. It's so annoying. I mean, why can't he just move it back?
I guess I never really thought about the fact that he really doesn't care about the damn coffee pot. I care about it. And if I care so much, I should just move it back.
I also never really thought about how I do these things for ME. I always thought I was doing it all for us. It feels like work. Like part of my job. Like I rarely get time off. But I didn't realize that I'm actually doing it for me. And there's a part of me that does enjoy it.
I'm the one who likes the bed made. I'm the one who likes the counters cleaned off (I mean it's totally gross if you don't clean them off, but you know what I mean). I'm the one who wants everything in its place 100% of the time.
And, truth be told, I would totally love to organize and clean on my day off because even though I don't love to clean, I love the finished product. It makes my heart happy to sit back in a nice clean house (can I get an AMEN!?).
He, on the other hand, doesn't care. And he shouldn't be punished or blamed for not caring. He shouldn't have to feel bad either. That's who he is and I'm who I am.
So I'm going to try to remember this and shift my perspective a little. I'm going to remember that I'm doing this stuff because I want to do it. Because it matters to me. And I'm going to try to remember that it's OK that it matters to me. And that it's equally OK that it doesn't matter to him.