I was recently asked this question: What is your deepest, most embarrassing secret as a “Slob Blogger”?
My basic, says-everything-I-need-to-say answer: It’s all embarrassing!
I was already planning to write this post, but then last night I was given the gift of new and fresh examples.
My plan for the next three weeks (leading up to the release of my book on Nov 8) is to do live video on Facebook sharing decluttering tips. [Note: my book is now available! All the details are HERE.]
Last night, I did not feel like sticking a camera in front of my very tired face, but I did it. It was going well, and then something strange started happening.
People from my “real” life started joining the video. It’s overwhelming to see the little notes and notices that FB gives you while you’re trying to talk, but my brain was able to register the fact that quite a few people from my real life world were watching. A friend I worked with when I taught overseas. A friend from church.
My sister-in-law.
And I started to freak out that maybe I had gone live on my personal account rather than on the blog’s page.
Thankfully, those who were watching talked me down from the panic, but it was still weird. Very, very weird.
When I started A Slob Comes Clean in 2009, I had no intention of anyone I knew finding out about it. I didn’t even tell my husband what I was doing.
I made up a fake name (Nony is short for aNONYmous) and set up a new email address so no one could ever trace the embarrassing pictures back to me.
Embarrassing pictures like the one at the top of this post.
Almost 8 years later, I still cringe when I post a photo of a space I’m tackling because it is messy yet again.
I still squeeze my eyes almost closed and turn my face away when I realize someone I know reads my blog. Yes. Like a child who hopes that by closing her eyes, she won’t get caught.
I feel the need to be clear for those who understandably assume I’m proud of being a slob. I’m not proud of it.
It’s a struggle. It’s embarrassing to admit that this stuff requires so much THINKING on my part when it seems to come naturally to the rest of the world.
But I’ve realized I am most definitely not alone in these struggles.
And most of all, I have real hope to share from the principles I’ve learned and the strategies I’ve developed through my own process of getting my home under control.
I’m committed to being the Mama Bear Slob, fighting to get you access to the help and hope you need, even though it means that guy from my workout group stumbles upon the deep dark secret that I’d never in a million years mention while doing squats at 5 a.m.
So, what is the deepest, darkest secret? That I’m not perfect, and I never will be.
But once I say it, I see how ridiculous that statement actually is, and how not-helpful-at-all it is to keep it a secret.
Because only through admitting how bad things really were can I also share the reality of hope that things can change.
That a messy home can get better.
Only by admitting that I still struggle can I let others know there’s a reason to keep going after the thirty-seventh failure.
That there are ways to manage your home without losing your mind, even for people like me.
Speaking of, you should totally order my book: How to Manage Your Home Without Losing Your Mind.
R.M. Koske says
This right here is part of why I follow you.
We don’t have much in common on the surface. I don’t have kids, and I’m not active in any community activities the way you are in your church.
But that pile? That feeling of failure? Those, we absolutely have in common, and your continued issues give me hope as much as or more than your progress. You do it, and it gets better, and it stays better but maybe not all the way better. So you take a deep breath and you do it again. Sometimes you find new ways to think about it and share those and they HELP. And sometimes, you admit that you just let go of the necessary habits and you resume them and prove that sometimes it just takes consistent effort.
Thanks for being brave. I know that cringe you described, and I appreciate that you’re doing this anyway.
Annie says
The above comment by RM is fantastic.. I do have kids but as a big Midwest city living Jewish professional, you wouldn’t think that I’d find a Churchgoing ruralish Texas housewife/blogger/author would be so 100 percent relatable. But I do! I love the way you write and I’m always thinking ” Hey me too!” when it comes to your thought process. Have had your book on preorder since day one. Can’t wait!
Penny F. says
I love that I am not alone! It helps! It truly does! I sometimes think it is hereditary some of the things that I do.. I hold on to so much.. that it overwhelms or that my kitchen table keeps needing to be decluttered again because it’s the catch all area of my house it seems.. Even when I put stuff back in a proper space it tends to find it’s way back there… Even if I try something and if it works, great I will try to remember that it did and do it again.. if it didn’t well then at least I tried it and may have found something else that works for me.. It’s all trial and error… and well none of us are perfect… That is a truth we all must face sometime! Even if it is a scary one!
Mary Stephens says
That may be your deepest, darkest, most embarrassing secret (and I get it); but your hope and honesty are your most attractive and refreshing qualities. The world needs more of that, especially when we hear so much about all the things that are wrong and can’t be fixed these days. Don’t quit.
Taryn says
Thank you, Dana, for being honest about your stuggles. My slob secret? I’ve not washed my windows or blinds in more years than I’ll admit. I’m getting better at daily picking up and tidying, but those big projects always get put aside for other things.
Heide says
I love your posts. I loved your book. Some things you say really resonate with me. Keep up the hard work.
Lynn says
I’m sitting here celebrating no dishes in my sink for three days, and a pretty clean downstairs because I’m ready for company (I cleaned for 2 days to accomplish it) We won’t talk about the upstairs, although I did clean the upstairs bathroom.
Why am I saying this? Because this crowd is my people – and you’re the one who pulled us together! Thank you for having the courage, even if it was as NONY to express what so many of us feel!