I didn’t really realize it until I was in college and found myself frustrated with every aspect of sharing a space with someone. Right before college was about when I started to be very clean – keeping my bed made, keeping the floor clean, making sure everything smelled good – so getting to school and living with someone who wasn’t on the same page as me was difficult.
Even having roommates and suitemates that were “clean” wasn’t enough, I always noticed the dirt and what wasn’t being picked up. Any trash, even when it wasn’t on my part of the room, bothered me to the point of aggravation. Any dirt that wasn’t cleaned felt like a personal attack.
Now, granted, I did have instances where piles of trash would be left on the floor for days. My frustration wasn’t invalid. But I do get frustrated with myself for being so nitpicky about cleanliness, and I do have to face the fact that I’m hard to live with and pretty particular about the way that things are organized. It’s not reasonable to hold people to all those standards, so I live alone now.
It’s not a bad thing that I’m clean, but I had to learn that it’s not okay to get angry at people for not living up to the expectations I hold for myself. Being able to announce to myself that I’m hard to live with is a bit liberating, and it’s nice to realize that I don’t have to sacrifice my own cleanliness anymore.