Why we should stop apologising for our homes

Some thoughts on comparison and self-criticism of our interior world, and why we should be embracing the everyday home, not the dream home…

Do you ever find yourself apologising when friends come round – saying things like ‘sorry the place is a mess’, ‘sorry I didn’t have time to tidy before you came’, ‘just ignore the piles of crap, the sink full of washing up, the half finished hallway and the light that needs to be fixed’. I do. All the time. Even when the house looks perfectly OK. I think I’m not alone – on Instagram and Pinterest, in a world of pseudo reality where everything is picture perfect and carefully curated (not always telling the full story behind the scenes), we find ourselves having to make excuses if things aren’t always looking their best, apologising if something is un-styled or half finished. 

From the outside, my home and my life might look rosy, but I’m a perfectionist and I still find myself getting frustrated, comparing my house to others and worrying that my interior, slightly rough around the edges and slowly decorated by my own hands, might not always meet the high aesthetic standards of the Instagram world (even though, paradoxically, I know that the nature of my job and what I do might also be part of this very problem).

It’s no wonder we’re torturing ourselves if everyday we see streams of new interior images – the very best versions of other peoples homes; the edited highlights and the prettiest corners. We don’t see the overflowing laundry basket just out of shot, the worrying cracks running down the plasterwork or the daily detritus that just seems to naturally build up without having to do anything about it (I’m sure I’m not the only one with half a dozen abandoned piles of stuff in the no mans land that is the stairs, waiting to find a home upstairs or downstairs).

Some of those things you don’t really need to see. There is, of course, an argument for being more honest and authentic – that I’m all for – but I don’t think that should be taken so literally all of the time. My job is to inspire and it wouldn’t be very aspirational if I kept drawing your eye to all the failures I see myself. But every so often, it helps to remind ourselves that those not so presentable things are a natural occurrence in every home. And that person we’re comparing ourselves to, their home is probably just like ours. 

The thing is that most of life is un-styled and half finished, that’s just the nature of it; life is messy and a home is designed to be lived in. A home evolves and grows with you, it’s a work in progress, and not just a still frame caught in a brief, beautiful moment in time.

As nice as it is to have a project to look forward to or a desire to improve things, instead of always looking ahead to a vision of that so-called dream home, we should also take the time to appreciate our home today; to be thankful there’s a roof over our heads and a space to express ourselves. It’s taken me a long time to accept my home’s faults; I want to be in control, have everything in its place and be a picture of tidy, organised bliss – sometimes it is – but most of the time, things are a little more chaotic. So here’s the truth: your home, for the most part, is perfect just as it is. And here’s why…

Capitalism has told us that if we keep buying things we’ll be happy

Capitalism and our consumerist society makes us think everything could be improved if we just spent the money; we could have a dream life if we could just afford a new house or the latest appliance or if we redecorated our whole house top to toe according to the next biggest trend. We think the grass is greener on the other side, but once we get there (to that perfect home) we’d still have the same problems; we’d still manage to lose socks in the wash and end up with a load of odd pairs, we’d still be surprised when the mirror gets covered in a sheet of dust or look in horror when the sun comes out and magically shines a spotlight on all the dirt. You don’t need to have a five figure budget to make a happy home, if you really think about it you’ve likely already got so much to be content with. 

Material things will only give so much satisfaction

We get that initial buzz when we buy something new for the home, but more often than not it’s fairly short lived. Maybe we just wanted something because someone else had it. Some objects will continue to give us joy everyday; those carefully considered items that we really thought about before buying or that had to be saved for. But it’s not just the objects that we surround ourselves with that make a home. If you design a space according to how it feels to be in, not just how it looks, it will become a much more rewarding process. Buying new things for your home won’t necessarily make you happy in the long term, but better understanding what home means to you will help create a space that connects on a deeper level.

Embrace imperfection 

There’s something we can learn from the Japanese – the concept of Wabi Sabi. Wabi Sabi is about finding beauty in the imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. It’s about small moments, not grand gestures. It’s appreciating the rustic, natural grain of wood of a dining table or the relaxed creases in a linen tablecloth. As Erin Niimi Longhurst says in her book Japonisme, ‘Home is a lived-in space, not a showroom. Minimalist, free of clutter, and natural; it has a place in our world, makes reference to nature, but is not sterile, bland and without character or humour’. 

Our homes take their fair share of wear and tear

Our homes within stand a lot; the battering of rain, the howling of wind, the daily scuffs and bumps, the muddy paw prints on the floor, the pencil marks children make on walls. There’s always an endless list of odd jobs to do around the house, from fixing things to papering over the cracks. Rather than criticise, know that your home is doing its best to keep you sheltered.

We’re part of an impatient culture

We want everything now. We look at pictures of beautiful homes and think that looks quick and easy to achieve, forgetting the hard work that went on behind the scenes to get it to that perfect state. Sometimes good things take time; you may have to make compromises or manage your expectations as you can’t assume you can do everything at once (unless you’ve got all the budget in the world, then go for it!). When we first moved into our house we had to make a decision whether to re-do the kitchen or bathroom; we couldn’t afford to do both. We chose the kitchen and continue to make do with a freezing cold bathroom that’s seen better days. There’s some things you have to save for and look forward to, but they’re worth the wait once you get there.

No one’s judging you as much as they’re judging themselves

There’s been times where I’ve hesitated from sharing a corner or photo of my home, seeing all the faults as loudly as day. I might touch up a scuff mark on a wall or photoshop out a tiny hairline crack in the plaster. But the truth is others likely can’t see the faults that you can as they just don’t live with them everyday. We’re all engrossed in our own inner world.

We see what we want to see

It’s easy to become envious of what someone else has when we just see the best bits. But that’s not the full picture and we often have a habit of forgetting that. The truth is we actually become more relatable and connect better with other people when we start to show some of our faults. I get the most engagement when I post something that’s honest and raw; a picture of a messy office will garner responses such as ‘phew, I’m glad you’re like that too’. 

There’s magic in the everyday and ordinary

The starry, glamorous moments when our homes are perfect and tidy are all well and lovely, but pleasure can also be found in the more mundane moments. I’m not saying that theres suddenly beauty to be found from the clothes hanging on the clothes horse, but there are some things to be appreciative of. They’re not so much the things in the home, as the time spent there; shared breakfasts with a steaming pot of coffee and the papers, dancing around the living room to your favourite song, decorating your first home and feeling a sense of achievement. Those are the things you’re likely to look back on and remember.

So that’s why I’m advocating for the everyday home, not the dream home that often seems so far away from reality.

I’ll end with this quote from The School of Life’s new book An Emotional Education (which I thoroughly recommend anyone reading for a greater insight into understanding yourself, your relationships, work life and how you see the world); ‘And so ‘little things’ start to seem somewhat different: no longer a petty distraction from a mighty destiny, no longer an insult to ambition, but a genuine pleasure amid a litany of troubles, an invitation to bracket anxieties and keep self-criticism at bay, a small resting place for hope in a sea of disappointment. We appreciate the slice of toast, the friendly encounter, the long hot bath, the spring morning – and properly keep in mind how much worse it could, and probably will one day, be.’