I had to let my cleaner go – weirdly, it’s made my life happier

Which sane person wants to spend their precious, scant and well-earned free time cleaning the bloody house? Not me. Well, at least not the old me. In fact, I once had a toddler tantrum (aged 45) over the prospect of sacrificing another Saturday morning to the vacuuming. My meltdown was so massive that I somehow, hopefully not consciously, ended-up throwing the hoover down the stairs. And yet, at the risk of sounding like the over-privileged figure of ridicule in “Common People”, thanks to a recent sudden drop in income forcing me to say goodbye to my cleaner, I’ve had to reassess. Now I find that dusting, hoovering and mopping can be incredibly satisfying. Therapeutic, actually. Perhaps even – whisper it – joyful.

Dusting myself off

One seemingly innocuous afternoon two months ago, an under-pressure client informed me that my contract would have to come to an end and – bam! – my disposable income vanished in a puff of smoke. Turns out it’s not just entry-level jobseekers feeling the pinch of AI, economic uncertainty and national insurance hikes. There’s also a surfeit of skilled and experienced (i.e. – expensive) midlifers suddenly finding themselves unemployed. After a short but intense period of fretting, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and swiftly implemented cost-saving lifestyle changes: no more holidays, no more meals out with friends, no more clothes shopping, no more mindless Ocado clicks and – deep breath – no more cleaner. As someone who has occasionally wondered if living in filth is preferable to hoovering, this latter measure was almost as seismic as the others. (Photo: Cristinairanzo/Getty)

The gender politics angle

Our relationship with housework is complex. For women in particular, it’s not simply that cleaning eats away at our leisure time. It’s also an issue of gender politics. Although the gap between men and women’s share of unpaid domestic labour is narrowing, women still carry the load. Data from the ONS Time Use Study found that in March 2024 women spent an average of 3h 32mins per day on unpaid work, versus men’s 2h and 23mins. In this context, embracing housework feels like jumping on the objectionable trad wife trend. The suffragettes did not risk and lose their lives so we could swan around like wannabe Meghan Markles. Then there’s the fact that our efforts rarely get noticed, let alone appreciated. Who has ever received thanks for wiping those stubborn peanut butter smears off the cupboards? (Photo: Morsa Images/Getty)

Stress

Dr. Ramon Velazquez, neuroscientist and Mind Lab Pro advisor, says resentment around housework “becomes wired into the brain as a constant source of stress. Its repetitive nature means there is no clear endpoint, so the lack of recognition means the brain doesn’t get the dopamine reward that usually comes with effort and positive feedback. For women in particular, this is often tangled-up with historical expectations of unpaid labour, and this makes the work feel even more burdensome.” Despite all this, when I did finally reach for the mop, albeit reluctantly, I became a cleaning convert. The key, I now realise, is turning housework into “an event”. The upside of less paid work is more available time, which creates the luxury of tackling cleaning as a standalone challenge, rather than an irritating addition to the never-ending to-do list, something to squeeze-in between working and childcare. (Photo: Ljubaphoto/Getty)

Finding the joy in housework

By setting aside a couple of hours (and having a strong word with myself about turning negativity into positivity), housework can turn from chore to joy. If viewed as a constructive distraction from life’s woes that comes with a sense of achievement, I felt it even doubles as a form of therapy. When cleaning is reframed as purposeful and valuable, Dr Velazquez says, “the brain responds in kind – dopamine circuits are engaged, stress hormones drop and the task feels somehow lighter. This is why some people genuinely find satisfaction in routines that others find draining.” (Photo: LumiNola/Getty/E+/Yuri Arcurs Productions)

Housework - or a day rave?

Blasting out some banging tunes (I highly recommend Jamie xx and Antony Szmierek interspersed with the odd cheesy disco number) is a huge help. My poor neighbours must wonder whether I’m cleaning or partying. And in a sense, so do I because my housework sessions often feel more like day raves – a much-needed antidote to the self-pity that can come from income loss and a lot nicer than feeling enslaved by the patriarchy. “We can alter the brain’s response if we tap into the right sensory cues,” adds Dr Velazquez. “Music, scents or good company can all change the feel of what we’re doing. The brain reads these signals as stimulating, so the work stops feeling like punishment.” (Photo: Goodboy Picture Company/Getty/E+)

The surprise benefits

Letting go of my cleaner – and my resentment around housework – has resulted in several more surprising benefits. No one will clean your home as thoroughly or lovingly as you and I’m now more house proud than ever before. Perhaps excessively so as the new me has to stop herself from wiping the bathroom tap after every use. Even better, I’m now free of the weird conundrums that can go hand-in-hand with the privilege of having a cleaner. The awkwardness of the power dynamic and the heightened awareness around inequality – are we providing employment or lording it like Marie Antoinette? For those of us working from home, having a cleaner involves a merry dance of switching rooms or Zooming with the hoover in the background. (Photo: Shutterstock)

An exploitative 'boss'

Pointing out occasional inadequate efforts can leave us feeling like an overbearing, unreasonable and exploitative “boss”. And, oh boy, do I cringe with guilt when I’m comfortably tapping away at my keyboard while someone less fortunate is scrubbing the loo. By embracing housework, I’ve realised a drastic drop in income has helped me appreciate the things I previously took for granted – like having a “quite nice actually” roof over my head. It’s also forced me to find simpler (AKA cheaper) ways of sourcing joy. (Photo: Richard Drury/Digital Vision/Getty)

Happier with less

I would, of course, be lying if I said I didn’t want my full earning power to return, along with all the advantages it brings – I miss those dinners with friends. Until then, though, I’ll carry on learning to be happier with less while wiring my brain to experience everyday tasks as positive and purposeful. And if my pay packet fails to make a comeback, perhaps a new career as a cleaner awaits. Just don’t call me a trad wife. (Photo: Paul Giamou/Getty)