The Case For Letting People See Your Messy House

My family of six had other families over for dinner on both Friday and Saturday this past weekend. We usually don’t have people over multiple times a weekend, but we do have people over a lot. How do we host so much, with four kids and two careers and lots of other things to juggle? We host poorly. 

That is, we essentially do what Leah Sargeant advised during her panel at a recent women’s convention in Rochester: invite people into our messy house. 

In this age of domestic influencers and their make-us-all-feel-bad-about-ourselves-and-our-homes content, normal busyness has become a barrier to hosting. Many people do feel they are unprepared to open their doors to friends and family on a regular day when things haven’t been scrubbed and shined. And if you’re a community-minded person generously doing all the other things that keep your family engaged and connected (coaching little league, serving on the PTA, cooking for the new mom meal train), there isn’t always time for outsize scrubbing and shining. 

There are many reasons for our national loneliness epidemic. Far-flung and estranged families, falling birth rates, hollowed institutions, and secularization are ongoing sources of growing isolation. And, of course, technology that makes it possible to be entertained and satiated as never before without ever leaving the house or interacting with anyone else is a proximate catalyst for our ever-falling nadir in sociality. These are systemic, cartel problems that no one family can solve alone and that aren’t going to get solved anytime soon. 

But what you can do to make things a little better for yourself and those you love, right now, is open your door, even when what’s behind it isn’t picture-perfect. I have a few thoughts on how to put yourself in a position to do exactly that. 

Have high daily standards, and let go of the rest

Whether or not you’re Christian, you’ve probably heard the story of Mary and Martha from Luke’s Gospel. Quick recap: The sisters have Jesus over for dinner. While Martha is bustling around the kitchen, doing all the domestic chores to make this honored guest comfortable, Mary is just sitting with him at the table, basking in his holy company. This annoys Martha, who asks Jesus to rebuke her sister and tell her to help. Instead, he tells Martha that Mary is in the right. 

Obviously, I am not about to argue with Jesus. He is making a well-taken point about presence in a context where he is Martha and Mary’s guest. So, practically speaking, I think that it’s probably useful to have some Martha in you on a daily basis — precisely so that you can both be Mary when company walks in the door and invite that company through your door in the first place. 

Here’s what I mean: There is a difference between “lived-in messy” and “squalor messy.” No, you don’t want to invite people into a genuinely dirty, over-cluttered disaster of a house. But you — and especially your kids — shouldn’t be living in a space like that anyway. 

To facilitate being Mary in public, be Martha (within reason) in private. Throw excess stuff out. Have a place for everything — at least in your main living space. Keep the kitchen wiped down and the dishes clean. Vacuum every day. Do the laundry every day — or, in my case, multiple times a day, but then never put it away. (Yes, one of my recent guests went upstairs and saw the mountains of clean laundry; no, I did not cringe because she is my friend). 

If you keep a relatively uncluttered house, it’s comparatively easy to open the door — even if the floor hasn’t been mopped lately and you don’t own a tablecloth. 

And if you get any inkling that someone judges you for that kind of messy, you’ve invited the wrong people. 

Pick like-hearted people to host

The people you want to host are those who prioritize what’s important. In the context of hospitality, what’s important is generosity of spirit. You invite people into your home as a proxy for inviting them into your heart. So, you do have to be who you actually are, not put on a show, if you are trying to build community. 

My hosting style: simplicity and abundance. I do not fiddle overmuch with aesthetics or design. I do make too much food (or order too much pizza) that’s hearty and tasty, but not organic or gourmet. 

I have friends who host a lot, and in fancier ways than I ever would. Their greater attention to aesthetics reflects their way of seeing the world. I also have friends who host in sparer ways than I ever would. Their lesser attention to abundance is equally inextricable from who they are. These details are actually not what makes a welcome any more or any less warm. 

It’s like-heartedness about the importance of real-life connection, not like-mindedness about what hosting should look like, that makes for something real. This is doubly true today, when community is likely to be centered on geographical proximity or shared political, cultural, or religious ideas — but does not as often as in the past reflect a shared familial or cultural understanding of what hosting entails. 

So, it isn’t important whether the people you’re hosting display their own generosity of spirit in the same way that you do—or vice versa. It just matters that they center the real and human over the performative and curated. 

The point of in-person friends in our disembodied age is to connect in the holistic and genuine way that grows into mutual, embodied understanding, help, and support.  

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Elizabeth Grace Matthew writes about books, education, and culture, including on Substack.

This article is part of Upstream, The Daily Wire’s new home for culture and lifestyle. Real human insight and human stories — from our featured writers to you.