Girl, Use That Dishwasher: Unlearning Loyalty to the Struggle

A few weeks ago, I was standing in my kitchen after a long day. Dinner still had to be made, dishes had piled up, and I could feel my energy beginning to drain. As I stood there preparing to wash every plate by hand, a simple thought interrupted me: "You have a dishwasher." It sounds almost laughable now.  Of course I have a dishwasher, I've had one for years-So why wasn't I using it?  The answer had nothing to do with dishes and everything to do with conditioning.

Growing up, my family rarely used the dishwasher. As the oldest child, the memories of witnessing my parents climb the socioeconomic ladder are much more vivid and intact then my younger siblings.  They only know the ease of middle class, suburban life-They weren't there in the trenches with my parents like I was.  My parents put in work to move our family from New York into a house in the suburbs, but even after gaining access to new comforts, they remained deeply mindful of every utility bill. The dishwasher wasn't forbidden, but it certainly wasn't meant for everyday use. It was reserved for holidays and large family gatherings only. The rules of using the washing machine were strict as well.  My Pops would say “Washing a small load of clothes uses the same amount of electricity as a large one”.  He would be thoroughly irritated if I dared to wash a personal load of clothes; and if he caught it during prewash, he was most definitely canceling and draining that load, so he could gather more dirty laundry just to make a large load. 

So the message I unconsciously absorbed was don't waste or use too much; Save what makes life easier for special occasions.  As an adult, I understand where that mindset came from. Scarcity leaves an imprint long after circumstances change. Many of us inherited beliefs that were born from survival rather than abundance; and the surprising part is how those beliefs continue to shape our choices even after our lives have changed.  Sometimes we still choose the harder road simply because it feels familiar. 

How many conveniences, opportunities, and forms of support have we quietly rejected because somewhere inside we still believe that ease has to be earned?  For many black women, especially those carrying generations of invisible labor, struggle became part of our identity. We admire resilience—and rightly so—but sometimes we mistake unnecessary hardship for virtue.  There is nothing inherently noble about making your life harder than it needs to be.  Using appliances and technology (responsibly of course) doesn't make us lazy, delegating doesn't make us less capable and receiving help doesn't diminish our strength-it actually preserves it.  As women, many of us are balancing careers, businesses, motherhood, partnerships, creativity, community, and our own personal growth. Leadership isn't about doing everything yourself; it also comes with understanding where your energy is most needed and allowing support everywhere else.

Delegation is in fact a wellness practice too-its not limited to only executives and entrepreneurs.  It's a way of honoring yourself, safeguarding your energy and making more room for things you actually want to do.  Sometimes the most profound transformations/transformational catalysts come from recognizing the small, subtle, yet still impactful programs that are running in the back of our operating systems.  Perhaps the dishwasher in your life isn't a dishwasher at all.  Maybe it's certain components of a project you've refused to outsource or help you keep rejecting-maybe it's more personal/relational, like delaying a boundary you should have set a long time ago or denying yourself rest till you fulfill some goal or obligation.  Healing and rejuvenation doesn't always require adding something new but rather using what has already been available to you all along.