I left a paper towel on the counter.

Brad and I have done all work possible to prepare to move in together successfully (at least I hope). We have discussed finances and household duties. We have addressed work-life balance and parallel alone time. We have created physical spaces that are just his and just mine. Maybe one day, he’ll even turn me into a morning person (not likely).

But there is one hurdle we can’t seem to get over, which is playing into my apprehension, and that is our different standards for cleanliness and order.

There was one afternoon recently where I physically had to leave the room. My goal was to organize the unbelievably messy closet in the living room (with hopes to send more to Goodwill than we kept). I didn’t want Brad’s help, because I knew his 'help' would turn into overstepping (which ironically, was exactly what I was doing).

Just seconds in, I wanted to cry. Nearly 90% of all the stuff was technical in some capacity, and I had no idea what I could keep and what I could get rid of. I felt like I was a person going through an IT closet 150 years in the future and some aliens were up in the sky laughing at me for not knowing what anything was.

When Brad offered to help, I thought, “Okay, it won’t be so bad. We can get through this.”

That optimism vanished five minutes into the process. When he wouldn’t let me toss out gardening magazines that were two years old buried at the bottom of box (when he CAN’T EVEN PHYSCIALLY READ PRINT ON PAPER due to his retinopathy), I said, “I need a breather.” I walked outside and laid in the hammock.

I went back inside and cleaned the kitchen (something I could have control over, since clearly, I did not and would never have control over the closet from some type of hoarder’s hell).

While I was cleaning, I thought, “Lauren, he is never fundamentally going to change. He is not going to wake up one day and have an insistent need for complete order.” I reasoned with myself, “And you aren’t going to change, either. You aren’t going to wake up one day and magically be able to thrive in clutter.” I continued my inner monologue, “But if Brad leaving Gatorade bottles out all the time is his biggest flaw, can you accept that?”

I know what you are likely thinking … If you LOVE somebody, how is that even a question?

I love Brad very much, but I wish I could explain what goes on in my brain when my living environment is not to my standard level of order. It takes a serious toll on my well-being, and frankly, I will need to emotionally prepare and accept that toll before I can FULLY accept Brad and our future with one another under one roof.

Later that evening, I wiped something off the counter, and my next move was VERY deliberate. I left the paper towel on the counter and exited the room. When Brad came downstairs a few moments later, I said, “I need to show you something in the kitchen.” I dragged him in there and excitedly exclaimed, “Look! I am adapting. I left a paper towel out.”

He replied, “Lauren Stahl, you are a weird girl.”

In my therapy session today, I had it in my notes to talk about the paper towel.

I said, “I had a moment of deep realization that Brad is never going to fundamentally change, and neither am I – that we will have to find a way to coexist successfully with this fundamental difference.”

I continued, “My whole life, I have tried to put people into boxes … tidy little Lauren boxes. Boxes that I wanted them to live in. And that’s not love, is it? I know it sounds ridiculous and almost crazy, but recently, I left a paper towel on the counter, just to prove to myself I could. I left something out of place, I exited the room, I carried on with life as normal, and I accepted that the world kept spinning. Even with the paper towel on the counter.”

She replied, “Lauren, the paper towel is not silly. You are showing yourself that you want movement to happen inside of you, so you can be in a harmonious relationship and not just one that is your way. That is love.”

I said, “Hold on, let me write that down.”

So, I wrote it down.

I conclude with my and Brad's two different approaches regarding houses: I quote the very wise Danny Tanner and say, "A clean house is a happy house!" While Brad remains steadfast, "A lived-in house is a happy house."

I took this later that evening to remind myself that these moments make every paper towel worth it.