I have been thinking today about the drastic change in my attitude towards housework. I grew up in a messy home, my Mom tried so hard to stay on top of things, but my Autistic Dad is a complete hoarder. My Aspie traits and my need for a safe place of calm took me to my bedroom a lot. In my room I had everything in its place. I loved order and I loved clean.
When I left home at 18
I moved into a flat with my first husband we both had a lot of pride in our home. For me I just needed my safe place, a place of knowing, I can see this now. For him it was more of a sense of achievement, he had grown up with very little and he enjoyed having the very best. For both of us home became very materialistic and it made my Mom feel uncomfortable when she visited. She once said to me that she really didn’t enjoy visiting because it was like stepping into a magazine and she felt like her being there was making a mess. She was right, it was like that and for all the wrong reasons.
Roll the years forward to the birth of *AJ
At this point things were not going so well with our marriage and I took comfort in order. My home became OVER organised and EXTRA clean, in fact it was sterile. I developed terrible OCD and what was my safe place was also *AJ’s safe place. He was a tiny baby, I was feeling EXTREMELY insecure with what was out of control in my life, so a phobia of germs took control. My cleaning routines and rituals had to be done, it was the only way I could function at that time.
I wrote a poem about this….here is the link
I was a single Mom for quite some time.
No one noticed my routines and rituals when *AJ was young, I knew they were odd so I hid them well. I had been isolated in my first marriage and I lost all my friends after the divorce. This tends to happen when your couple friends have to choose. Me being the less social one missed out on grabbing the friendships. I lost my home and my belongings (it’s amazing how freeing that can be actually) I didn’t see it at the time, I was seriously depressed. I had a loving family and a good friend who helped me through. I didn’t have anything to clean for a whole year and this broke me of my habit. I was living with those who would put a roof over the head of a young Mom and her 2 year old hyper active son.
Not my rules, they were the rules of the homes I lived in
No belongings, means no cleaning. I was helpful to those I lived with and really just kept out of the way. When I got my home back *AJ was 3 and he no longer needed things to be sterile. I kept a tidy ordered home that was relaxed and friendly. At this point in my life I was in a religious sect and my time was consumed by the indoctrination of this particular fellowship.
When *CAL was born *AJ was 7
My germ phobia kicked back in, Mr Locoman is a lot more loving and patient than my first husband was. He was able to bring me through this, he helped me to feel secure and not have to keep control of the environment.
11 years later I no-longer feel I have to have an immaculate home to impress people, or even be liked by people. Part of this though is because I have spent so long trying to please everyone, trying to imitate or impress friends that now I really don’t care anymore what people think. I know I am loved by God and those God has put in my life.
After the building work was completed we were left with an awful lot of mess, the problem is I seem to have lost the motivation.
I want my home nice again, but there is a kind of fear
Don’t get me wrong it’s not that bad, I can invite people round. But I feel like I am only wanting it nice for me. I think I have been trashed that much in my life by others, and I have allowed people to treat me badly because I didn’t really understand I deserved and was worth better. Now I am having a re-think and wondering if I have lost the “self love” that I should have to motivate me into wanting nice for myself. I can easily do everything for others but for myself I tend to not bother. I don’t feel pressured into doing things to please my husband, my kids, my family or my true friends because I know they love me regardless. I’m very blessed. My kids are both older now and have their own things and their own rooms. I feel content but my home isn’t exactly how I want it.
So how do I find the balance?
What is self-worth?
What is house proud?
Is this an Aspie thing?
Or me just struggling to process my past again?
Just my thoughts, I know God loves me so I should love me too!
There we go, my post of babbling nonsense for the day.
Love and hugs all.
Lisa. xx 🙂
Status update by Joyce Meyer
No one is perfect—each of us is a work in progress. (Phil. 1:6)
Philippians 1:6 (NIV1984)
Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.