Dearest friend,
In the short years we have known each other, I’m so grateful for how close our relationship has grown. With that in mind, I must tell about what I saw when you first opened your doors to me.
Much like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, there was laundry, laundry, everywhere, and not a shirt folded. Coffee grounds spilled on the counter. Plastic utensils to eat with because the silverware was all in the sink or unloaded dishwasher. I was… stunned.
I was trying to become a more open-minded, less judgmental person. So I tried to brush it off – both literally and figuratively. No easy feat for someone you once referred to as Monica from Friends (the neurotic, but lovable clean freak). That’s when I saw IT.
You may hold the secret to life.
While I saw laundry, you were engaged with your daughter. You truly heard every word she said about the drawing that was supposed to be a horse. You were present with your kids in a way I never had been. When she was finished you told her where to find her pile of laundry so she could do her share of the work. Your “mess” was your teaching moment.
While I saw coffee grounds, you were looking at the baby you had been up with all night. Yet, you weren’t complaining. “Impossible,” I thought to myself. Could it be true that if you don’t put so much pressure on yourself to be super mom, you actually enjoy the process more? I had read articles on this hypothesis, but you were the only mom I knew who was courageous enough to believe your health and sanity were more important than clean counters.
While I saw mounting dirty dishes, you were looking at a new friend with complete honesty. You did not put on a phony facade to either compete with me or win me over. I had on my “good” make-up and even did a blow-out for this occasion. I wanted you to like me, but in order for that to happen I needed you to know the natural me. By contrast, your house was the truest sign of friendship.
When you are gracious enough to have me over to your home, I walk in feeling like I’m being embraced with a big hug. Where some see mess, you have taught me to see a present mother, a strong woman, and an honest friend. In short, you have inspired me to let go of the little material things that bog me down to become the best me.
In genuine gratitude,
Your more-sloppy friend
P.S. If you think this letter was regarding your house, I’m sure it isn’t. The secret of my friend is she wouldn’t care to dwell on the thought.
