I Don’t Like Mowing the Lawn—and I’m Okay With That

I don’t like mowing the lawn.

When I first entered my terminally single era after divorce, I watched a lot of videos made by recently divorced women like me. They were tackling yardwork and home repairs with an enthusiasm that made self-sufficiency look exhilarating. They seemed almost giddy about power tools and freshly cut grass.

I tried to join in the fun. I really did.

For a solid year, I think I even convinced myself that I liked it.

But alas, six years in, I can finally admit the truth: I do not, in fact, enjoy mowing the lawn.

And I’m okay with that.

It’s a chore I put off until the grass is juuuust tall enough that I start expecting a warning from our overzealous city ordinance person. Then, begrudgingly, I get out the mower and do what needs to be done.

I can smell the freshly cut grass and take it or leave it.

What I do feel now, though, is pride—not because I enjoyed mowing the lawn, but because I got it done.

A Full Life Still Has Grass to Cut

I have a full life, and fitting this particular task into it is an accomplishment of its own. I handle it somewhere between my regular job, vet appointments for my two needy dogs, and almost-nightly trips to the barn to ride and care for my horse.

I’m building a side business teaching music lessons while also teaching the actual lessons. I blog here and there. I make time for friends. I try to date, although let’s face it—not very hard.

And then there’s another big project I’m not quite ready to talk about on the internet.

Somewhere among all of that, the grass continues to grow.

Capability Isn’t the Same as Enjoyment

Mowing it isn’t satisfying because I have suddenly discovered a hidden passion for lawn maintenance. It’s satisfying because I am capable of handling it. I can look at everything competing for my attention, find a place for this annoying little responsibility, and take care of it.

Maybe that’s what independence actually looks like.

It isn’t loving every chore simply because you’re capable of doing it yourself. It isn’t transforming every unpleasant responsibility into an empowering hobby. Sometimes it’s just knowing that, whether you enjoy something or not, you can handle it.

When It’s Done, It’s Done

There is also something refreshingly definite about cutting the grass. When it’s done, it’s done. The rest of life rarely offers that kind of clean finish.

The dogs will need another appointment. The horse will need to be cared for tomorrow. There will always be more work, more lessons, more plans, more writing, and possibly another mediocre first date.

But for one brief moment, the lawn is cut.

It’s another piece of the complicated puzzle of my life that I can point to and say, “I’ve got this.”

I don’t love it. I don’t even like it.

But I’ve got it.

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