Photo credit: Leani Al-Midani

A pile of dishes lie near a sink after being washed. These dishes were just used and left out to dry. Scenes like these are often viewed as messy, even though they reflect normal, productive activity. According to Science Direct, many people corolate messiness with someone’s personality and character.

If you walked into my kitchen mid-meal, you wouldn’t think “professional” or “chef,” you would think “disaster.” There is oil splattered on the counter, a pile of utensils I swear I needed and a pan with some assortment of vegetables that are quickly moving from golden to burnt.

Believe it or not, this is what learning looks like.

There is a particular kind of shame reserved for messiness, and not just the belief that disorder reflects something about your character. I have been taught to equate neatness with discipline, organization with success and tidiness with moral virtue. If your life looks chaotic, the assumption goes that you must be chaotic too.

But what if we start shifting views of mess being evidence of effort rather than a failure of character?

Somewhere along the way, cleanliness turned into a personality trait and clutter into a moral flaw. Students were praised for having color-coded calendars and good handwriting; meanwhile, those with overstuffed backpacks, messy drawings and marker-stained hands are told to clean up.

Since childhood, my mom would remind me to clean as I went so that I could keep things in order and to make sure that whatever I started didn’t leave a trail behind it. And there’s value in that. Organization can save time, prevent mistakes and make daily life more manageable. But those lessons didn’t always leave room for the reality of learning something new.

When figuring something out — whether it is cooking, writing or a new craft — things rarely stay neat. You use more tools than expected, mistakes are made and that natural chaos of your brain learning translates onto the environment you are in. A kitchen mid-meal or a desk mid-project do show signs of progressing rather than the common narrative that something is going wrong.

Creation is and should be un-tidy. Growth is not linear, and understanding doesn’t arrive right away. It spills, overflows and leaves traces behind. The process of becoming better at something is inherently inefficient, filled with trial and error, false starts and moments that don’t look impressive from the outside.

On social media, viewers are often shown the finished product — the plated dish, the polished essay and the organized workspace. We rarely see the burnt crusts, the crossed-out drafts or the clutter that made those results possible. So when our own process looks messy, people assume something is being done wrong.

But maybe the mess is the proof that you are working hard. That you are trying, adjusting and experimenting. A clean kitchen might mean control, but a messy one might mean courage. Of course the goal is not to live in chaos forever. Eventually things get cleaned and skills are learned. But expecting order in the middle of growth is like expecting a kitchen to stay spotless while a meal is being cooked. It misses the amount of effort that is being used.

So maybe next time things feel out of control or people feel the need to judge you, it’s worth looking at a diffrent perspective.