Inviting people over to hang out at my house is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don’t need to leave home. On the other, I’m plagued by anxiety, not because I don’t enjoy seeing my friends, but because of all the tidying and cleaning I feel pressured to do even for a casual evening of watching TV.
In an instant, I transform into my mother, frantically scrubbing and organizing. To welcome guests into a house that shows signs of life — a pile of unopened mail sitting on the dining room table or crumbs in the couch cushions — is to open yourself up to judgment.
It’s a common sentiment among those of hosting age: the manic cleaning that precedes the arrival of guests, memed and parodied ad infinitum. Of course these concerns primarily afflict women — centuries of socialization have reinforced the notion that the condition of a home is a woman’s business. (A 2019 study found that women are held to higher cleanliness standards than men and are more likely to face negative social consequences for failing to meet that standard.) Mothers, who are somehow expected to be the primary caretaker and keep the house spotless on top of everything else, carry an even heavier domestic burden.
Whenever Ciara Bogdanovic’s clients come to her with these concerns, she can’t assure them that no one is judging the state of their home. But she can promise them that the majority of people aren’t. “Often,” Bogdanovic, a licensed marriage and family therapist, says, “we project our own beliefs about ourselves onto what we believe others are thinking.”
But here’s the thing about hanging out at home: It’s free, low-key, and convenient. And we should be looking for more ways to find connection, not less, given the negative physical and mental health consequences of loneliness and social isolation. Many people crave more time with their friends, yet the anxiety of hosting what should be an undemanding get-together may preclude them from seeing their buds more often.
So the only rule you really need to keep in mind is to make sure your house is just tidy enough for guests to relax, experts say. Fear of having a space that looks like people live there shouldn’t hold you back from spending time with friends. If they’re judging you, that’s a reflection on them.
Personal standards for how a home “should” look before hosting are shaped by past experiences, Bogdanovic says. Many people either had a relative who stressed the importance of cleaning up for guests or saw the caricature depicted in culture — or online.
Across social media, images of uber-organized homes and performative cleaning videos create the false perception that the average home looks like a magazine. We also have a tendency to compare our spaces to those of our friends. “You’re comparing your behind-the-scenes with someone else’s highlight reel,” says KC Davis, a therapist and author of How to Keep House While Drowning. “When you’re at home, you’re looking at your home the way it really looks in the midst of living there. When you go over to other people’s homes, most people are cleaning before you get there.”
This tendency to compare is also why you might find yourself subconsciously spotting dust bunnies in a friend’s home. “There might be some conclusions we’re trying to draw,” says licensed clinical social worker Alyssa Petersel. “Is this person doing better or worse than I am in life, financially? Is their style more or less like what I want my style to be?” These observations impact how we view ourselves.
Assuming you don’t want to be critiqued about your own home, it’s always best to suspend judgment about how others live. Unless the state of their home poses a danger to those living there, what they choose to clean — or not — before you come over is not worth commenting on. “What is important to you in a friendship?” Bogdanovic says. “Is cleanliness and perfection really the most important thing? Or would you prefer someone who listens to you and you have fun with?”
The primary goal of a host should be to pay attention to guests, not a stray toy. Davis says to focus your efforts on making the room where you’ll be hanging out comfortable for guests. Think practically: providing a place to sit (that isn’t covered in pet hair), making sure the floor is clear so people can walk around, offering drinks and snacks on fresh dishes, ensuring the bathroom is clean. The dishes in the sink or your disorganized bedroom? Not so much a priority. “As long as things are sanitary, people aren’t going to remember what it looks like,” Davis says. “They’re going to remember the way that they felt and the time that they had while they were there.”
Whatever you do, don’t apologize for the state of your house, experts say. If you feel awkward when you notice a guest eye your disorganized coat rack, you can cut the tension with a quick joke, like, “Come on in, we live here!” or, “The kids have taken over with their jackets.”
If you’re still feeling self-conscious, Bogdanovic suggests observing your friends’ actions and body language. Are they looking around your house or sitting rigidly trying to keep as little of their body from touching your sofa as possible? Or are they lounging and engaging in conversation? Take stock of what’s actually happening, not what you’re imagining is happening.
Unless you truly value spending hours cleaning, focus on your priorities, Bogdanovic says, which is probably spending quality time with your friends — an activity that contributes to happiness more than a clean house. Letting friends into your space, mess and all, breaks the cycle of perfectionism. Once you ditch the expectation that homes should look like furniture showrooms, your friend group may feel more comfortable hosting despite the chaos in their kids’ rooms, too.
“In the moments where we are a bit imperfect or we’re a little raw or we’re a little unpolished,” Petersel says, “we’re actually giving other people permission to show up as their full selves.”
