Why I stopped apologizing for the dishes We live in a culture that praises spotless counters, perfectly folded laundry, and curated lives where not a crumb is out of place. The problem is—life isn’t spotless. Life is lived. At my house, that means dog hair I’ll never keep up with, half-finished projects spilling into every room, and yes—dishes in the sink even though the dishwasher is full of clean ones. For years, I thought those things meant I was failing. If someone dropped by and saw the clutter, I would panic inside, convinced they were tallying up my shortcomings. But here’s what I’m learning: maybe the mess isn’t a sign…