This morning, I found myself with 20 minutes of free time. “Free” is probably the wrong way to say it. There’s a whole list of things I should have been doing, but as there was nothing pressing at the moment, I could decide which task I would do to fill my time. I considered folding laundry or vacuuming the living room carpet. Until…I looked at my microwave.
This is the point in which I will share a deep confession: I don’t clean my microwave. Notice that I did NOT say, “It’s been a while since I’ve cleaned it.” I. Do. Not. Clean. It. Like ever. No exaggeration. It’s gross. I know. But please keep reading.
I could spend days filling up article after article about the places in my life where I am lacking, but that’s not the point.
I share this sordid detail because we don’t often see the dirty microwaves around us. Most people who come into my house, even into my kitchen, don’t give mine a second glance. They never think about opening it. From an outside view, my hurried wipe-down of the kitchen, leaving the counters shining clean, is indicative of how my entire kitchen looks. They assume that my microwave is clean.
How often have you done that?
Like my microwave, our outside view of other people often lacks the grimy details that we only discover as we come to know people more intimately. If you and I just met and sat down to chat, I might seem overwhelmed or you might. That’s because we tend to put our best foot forward and highlight our strengths. We want others to think well of us so we hide those dirty microwaves.
But it’s not just microwaves.
A few years ago, I babysat a lovely little girl. It was nearing her birthday, and I practically begged her dad to let me make her birthday cake. I’d been practicing custom cakes, and at the time, I only had boys, so I really wanted to make a girl cake. He agreed, and I sent him pictures of cake ideas. The girl settled on a beautiful princess castle cake, covered in pink fondant. My experience with fondant was limited, and I’d never done anything to that extent. However, I was confident that I could make it work.
It did…sort of. This is the picture that I posted online, and I was so proud of the result. This was also the moment I truly understood that social media, and the other images we present to the world, only show half of the story. I shared what I wanted people to see.
I wish I would have taken a picture of the other side, but my beginner pride didn’t allow me to document that. While this front is immaculate, the back tells another story. Right in the middle of the bottom cake layer, I had a large wrinkle in the fondant. Try as I might, I could not get it to lay flat and look nice. So I took a picture of the front and handed off the cake saying, “Just don’t look at the back.”
At this point, I’m imagining you looked at that picture and said, “What’s the big deal? I’d love to have a cake that looks like that. The back doesn’t even matter.” And you’re right. It really doesn’t, but when you’re the one who made it, the flaws in the back are a much bigger deal, and sometimes, it’s nearly impossible to overlook them.
What’s the moral of this all?
Remember that everyone has those dirty microwaves. Remember that — when you see a beautiful picture online — it’s only half the story. Remember that we’re all just people, trying to do the best we can, and that we all have those hidden places that we hope will never see the light of day. Let remembering that help you to not be so hard on yourself.
Wherever you’re at with this motherhood journey, allow yourself a little grace. You’re doing better than you think you are and everyone else has a dirty microwave too.
