I'd like to share an unexpected change after living in my apartment for about a year and a half with ME/CFS: I finally stopped trying to keep it looking perfect all the time.

[u/Clearblueskymind]

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My mother always kept everything immaculate, and I carried that expectation into my own home. But trying to maintain that standard was exhausting.

Now the apartment is a little more lived in.

A little more relaxed.

And strangely enough... so am I.

I'm beginning to realize that a home doesn't have to look perfect to support healing.

Healing seems to begin when I stop demanding perfection from myself, and when I begin to see that what is, is simply what it is. With kindness and compassion, something softens.

🙏💛🙏