‘I went to a friend’s house. I wiped my finger along her walls to see the dust. I then went into her bedroom to see if there were dirty clothes on the floor and if her bed was made.’

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“I went to a friend’s house and I wiped my finger along her walls to see the dust.

I then went into her bedroom to see if there were dirty clothes on the floor and if her bed was made.

I went into her laundry to check her washing had been done and looked inside her sink to see if she had washed the dishes.

I checked out what she was wearing and smelled her hair to see if she washed it.

Actually, I didn’t do any of those things and not because I’m not a creep, but because none of those things even cross my mind when I go to visit a friend.

When I visit you, my friend, or when any of us come to visit. We don’t care about the toys on your floor, the dishes, the laundry. We don’t judge how many days it’s been since you’ve washed your hair as a sign of what type of person you are, or if you have your shit together.

You could open the door with your boob hanging out, your husband’s old football shorts and some vomit in your hair, and all I will see is you.

I don’t care about your dishes, I care about you.

I care about how you’re doing, how you’re coping, if you’re happy and if you need a coffee or a triple shot of gin.

I care about you as a person, not how your laundry is folded or how many toys are on the floor. I care about if you need a hug, or to laugh or to just swear at the top of your lungs because life is getting too much.

You are not your dishes, you are not your laundry, you’re not your dirty T-shirt or your unwashed bun. You’re a person that I love, and as your friend I don’t care about your house, I care about YOU. The cleaning will never define you, only you define you.”

This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Laura Mazza of Mum on the Run, where it originally appeared. Submit your story here, and subscribe to our best love stories here.

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