The Psychology of Hiring a Cleaner

Dancing Without a Mop, Letting Someone Touch Your Stuff and Getting Your Life Back

Hiring someone to clean your house is the closest thing to magic an adult can experience.

Opening the front door and being hit by the smell of fresh eucalyptus rising from a still damp floor, is a kind of pleasure you never get used to.

What baffles me is how many people could afford this magic, but still choose to mop themselves.

If you didn’t grow up with a cleaner, you’ve never felt the joy of a home that cleans itself while you’re out. Having a cleaner feels like discovering a dishwasher: press a button and bang! Clean.

All you need to do is restock cleaning supplies, set a date, and leave money on the table.... hoping that’s all they’ll take.

Letting a stranger roam your house unsupervised is terrifying. It’s your safe place, where even your closest friends don’t open drawers. Now this person folds your underwear.

All your secrets: notes, pictures, even sex toys... are out in the open. But the stranger doesn’t care. And soon, they won’t feel like a stranger anymore. Sure, there’s a risk your key is copied and your TV disappears. And that risk is why you get someone with references. Risks should be mitigated, not avoided.

Some people say they enjoy cleaning. That it’s no big deal. They put on happy music and make it bearable. But if music is the fun part, wouldn’t you rather dance without a mop?

When I convinced my girlfriend to let Adriana in, she wanted to clean first so Adriana wouldn’t see the mess. She felt it was rude to welcome someone into a dirty house (even though the place already looked fine). Unless there’s dog shit all over the floor, they won’t care. Why else would you be calling them?

I understand where her feeling comes from. It isn’t really personal but cultural. We’re used to hiring cleaners for offices, hotels, restaurants. But at home, it feels different. There, outsourcing feels like failure. Like you should be the one to handle your own mess and outsourcing is only moral when you can’t do it yourself. Either because you lack the tools or the know-how.

For me, convenience is a no less moral reason. You might just not feel like doing it and that’s fine. It’s a simple agreement: money for a service. Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides, most people don't know how to clean properly.

Even if you think you know how to clean, have you ever had your house professionally cleaned? You clean the way your parents did. And that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re doing it well.

Adriana introduced me to products like descalers and magnetic dusters, which I had always ignored in the supermarket.

If you dread cleaning as much as I do, a cleaner will do the job much faster and better than you. And if you are obsessive like my mom, you’ll have to accept they won’t do it your way.

But an 80% clean house done for you beats a 100% done by you. Yes, things might get lost, broken or misplaced. That’s just the cost of doing business.

My girlfriend used to spend her entire Saturday morning cleaning. But now that we have help, she understands why I was so adamant about calling Adriana. A morning for ourselves feels like a weekly Christmas gift.

Adulthood is about letting go. Letting others touch your stuff. Opening up the hidden parts of your life. And accepting a certain dependence on another human being.

You stop obsessing over how things are arranged, wiped, folded. And instead, start living your life: Learning languages, enjoying a slow Saturday breakfast with a book, stretching after a long workout.

Next comes the question of money, specifically, what people think a cleaner costs. Have you asked your friends what they pay? Seriously, ask. It’s never as much as you expect. Time this cheap is a deal you won't regret.

The best way to find someone is the good old-fashioned way: ask your friends. The internet can’t help here because trust can’t be bought or sold. A trustworthy cleaner comes recommended by someone you already trust. No amount of five-star reviews online beats a real referral.

At first, cleaners try to impress. But over time, their performance drops. That’s just human nature. Without the right incentives, we settle for the “minimum acceptable level”. What you’re really paying for isn’t deeper cleaning, it’s trust. Enough to hand over your keys.

I thought about paying Adriana more for a more thorough cleaning, but I realized it wasn’t going to work in the long run. Novelty fades because that’s how hedonic adaptation works.

Nobody fires a cleaner over some dust sitting behind the TV. You do it when trust is gone. That’s the line.

In the end, you’re not just freeing yourself from some chores. You’re becoming someone who asks for help. And that’s how you get your life back. By being vulnerable and surrendering control. That’s how you invite magic into your life.