How I realized nobody cares

By Luna Vermeer

5 min

For years, I silently waited for a medal that never arrived. I believed that someone would eventually notice the laundry folded just so, the counters wiped, the groceries magically appearing in the fridge. Spoiler: nobody cared. And at first, that realization stung, but eventually, it turned into one of the most freeing lessons of my life.

The medal ceremony that never happened

I used to think there was an unspoken agreement in my family: I would do all the little chores, and in return, they would shower me with endless gratitude. Shockingly, this never happened. No one gasped in awe when they saw color-coded Tupperware or folded towels that looked like a spa display. Not a single standing ovation for vacuuming under the couch. At first, I simmered with quiet rage, thinking, “Do they not SEE all this?” But eventually, it hit me no, they don’t. And maybe that’s okay.

The meltdown

My breaking point came during a dramatic lecture about couch cushions. I had fluffed, arranged, and perfected them to look like a furniture catalog, only to find my daughter sprawled across them five minutes later. I snapped: “Does nobody care how much effort I put into making this living room look decent?” She shrugged and said, “Mom, it’s a couch we’re supposed to sit on it.” That sentence broke me and healed me all at once. I realized I wasn’t mad about the cushions; I was mad that nobody else saw the invisible work I poured into these tiny details. And maybe they never would.

Letting go

Once I accepted that nobody cared but me, life actually got lighter. I started focusing less on whether the laundry was folded like a boutique display and more on whether it was actually wearable. When someone else did the chores (badly, in my opinion), I bit my tongue and let it slide. And you know what? The world didn’t fall apart. Yes, the towels looked like abstract art, and yes, the floor still had mysterious crumbs, but I had more energy for things I actually enjoy. My chore ego needed to retire so I could stop resenting everyone around me.

Freedom

Now, I treat chores as background tasks, not performance art. Sometimes I leave dishes overnight, sometimes the laundry pile looks like Mount Everest, and guess what? Everyone survives. The biggest shock was realizing that the only person putting pressure on me was… me. Nobody else expected perfection; they just wanted me happy and less cranky. And once I stopped waiting for applause, I could actually laugh at the absurdity of it all. So yes, nobody cares about the chores I do and that’s exactly why I finally feel free. Plus, less time cleaning means more time for bubble baths and, books.

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