Something Near and Dear

So I was raised in a “traditional” American household. Being a female, and what I’m realizing as I grow older, I’m one of the few in my generation that were taught that, and as a result, one of the few left as well. Sure, I like points of feminism, I love wearing pants, and shorts, and working for my money (this doesn’t mean I necessarily enjoy my current job, by any means. It’s not the worst, but my god, it’s not what I wish I could be doing), and being able to be apart of the modern world, not beneath it. But there are fundamentals that we should keep by being female. My maternal grandmother was a huge part of my childhood. She was my cousins and I’s nanny in a sense. She was willing to watch over us. She was the one that passed on the things that make me who I am today – A housewife. I know it’s not meant for everyone, but if you at least learn the basics of housekeeping, I feel it helps.

For me, even though I was a very messy child, she kept pursuing the fact that I needed to know how to clean, sweep, mop, do laundry, make food, shop properly, and affordable, and dress properly. I didn’t realize that by having her do this, I would eventually do a whole 180 degree flip from my clutter-filled child self, to a clean, well kept adult.

Sure, My house isn’t a model house worthy clean, and it never will be. But it’s well kept, homey, and my god, I will cook you up a hearty meal, and make sure you can lay your head down, and take a nap afterwards. But everyone takes housemaiding to a different level, and that’s okay. We’re not all the same, so neither should our homes. That’s where you find people of the same comfort level you do, as a part of compatibility. Weather it’s a significant other, like mine, friends, roommates, whoever.

This is where my father and I differed. That’s why I can’t mention family in the little list above. When I lived with my father, his house is very large, and he has too much clutter, let alone things. He’s a hoarder when it comes to having an idea, and getting things for them. And he has a hard time letting things go, for reasons I may never know. And I had to play Cinderella, and it was impossible.

That’s where I am so grateful for my s/o. He appreciates it all. He likes a clean house, he loves the fact that I cook, and we haven’t had a bad meal that I’ve cooked from “scratch” yet. That’s something I feel not enough people get, and that breaks my heart.

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