“Why is there a blender in the bathroom?” That’s what I whispered to myself as I stood frozen outside my friend’s guest bathroom, trying to make sense of the scene. The counter was an apocalyptic mix of hair products, a Dermalogica serum army, and yes, nestled among it all, a NutriBullet. Had it been repurposed for some fresh, questionable TikTok skincare hack? Was it a long-lost prop from Westworld?

As it turned out, my friend was using it to mix some kind of DIY hair mask she’d crafted from avocado, egg yolk, and—if memory serves—possibly the tears of mermaids. That blender ended up being the start of one of the most unexpectedly profound lessons about life, love, and the sticky beauty of embracing chaos: perfection isn’t the goal—and maybe, just maybe, the mess is where we grow.

The Blender as a Metaphor: Embracing the Unexpected in Relationships

If you’d told my teenage-self, swirling around carefully choreographed Beverly Hills dinner parties, that one day my greatest muse would be bathroom appliances, 15-year-old me would have stuffed an overpriced canapé into her mouth and laughed. After all, I’m the product of a very curated world. Growing up, everything from floral arrangements to feuds was stage-managed. And like many of us, I internalized the idea that control equals security, especially in love. Relationships had to be smooth, predictable—a Hitchcock close-up without the screaming violin.

But here’s the thing: love isn’t made in a pristine editing suite. Love happens in the blender.

You think you’re going to fall for the kind of person a script demands: the ideal romantic lead, the James Marsden type (you know, the seemingly boring guy your mom would adore). Instead, you fall head over heart for someone whose quirks you didn’t see coming. Maybe they alphabetize their cereals, or maybe they obnoxiously quote The Sopranos when ordering Italian food. Whatever it is, they blend their avocado hair mask in the bathroom. And maybe you don’t just tolerate it—you lean into it.

What the Blender Taught Me About Imperfection

Here’s what my surprising muse—the NutriBullet of Doom—taught me: perfection is a mirage. And the harder we chase it, the more life becomes a desperate Vimeo reel of outtakes that never feel quite complete. In relationships, especially, this fixation is a recipe for loneliness. No one worth keeping around will fit neatly into your pre-determined frame. The truth is, the raw moments—the unfiltered, un-Instagramable chaos—are where connection lives:

  1. Messy is beautiful.
    My relationships started evolving the moment I stopped sweating the small stuff. Love isn’t in perfectly planned dates or partner-approved playlists; it’s in spilled water glasses, awkward pauses, and “Can I tell you something weird?” confessions at 2:00 a.m. (Usually, those confessions involve niche movie trivia. Thanks, film school.)

  2. Perfection doesn’t deepen intimacy—authenticity does.
    Have you ever been so determined to “polish” yourself in a new relationship that you actually self-edit mid-conversation? Yeah, me too. But the truth is, someone can’t fall for the real you if you never let them see it. It’s okay to let someone in, hair mask and all. Share the nervous quirks, the strange hobbies, the unflattering opinions about La La Land. That’s how you stop performing love and start experiencing it.

  3. Be open to surprises.
    When I see a blender in a bathroom, my first instinct is to question reality. But I’ve learned to pivot. That blender gave me perspective and reminded me to approach life’s unexpected quirks with curiosity. Maybe your partner wants pineapple on their pizza—don’t fight it. Maybe they have a gaming chair as part of their living room decor. Resist the urge to roll your eyes long enough to ask about it. That blender was just an avocado smoothie for hair now, but who knows what it becomes next week? Maybe an actual breakfast.

Why Embracing the Blender Mentality Makes Us Better Partners

Here’s the kicker: this isn’t just about being more “chill.” It’s about cultivating the emotional resilience and perspective to handle life’s inevitability—the spills, the bad weeks, the inexplicable arguments over whether Home Alone 2 is better than its predecessor. (Spoiler alert: it isn’t.) By lowering my own need to “direct” every moment, I became a better partner. I stopped resenting surprises and started celebrating what they reveal about people, especially the messy, real parts you don’t expect to notice at first.

  • Need better communication in your relationship? That doesn’t happen during a perfectly organized candlelit dinner. It happens when life gets messy—a scheduling conflict, a sick dog, a canceled flight—and you figure out how to team up instead of tearing down.
  • Want to be a better partner? Say goodbye to the “ideal” version of them you’ve built in your mind and appreciate the human version of them instead (yes, avocado hair smoothie and all).

Your Takeaway: Add a Little Chaos to Your Smoothie

Every time I see a NutriBullet now, I think about how transformative life can be when we stop trying to blend everything into a super-smooth puree. It’s a metaphor for staying curious: Are you fixating on controlling the texture of your romance instead of savoring its taste? Shake things up. Say yes to spontaneity, embrace quirks you didn’t plan for, and lean into life’s glorious, avocado-masked unpredictability.

The bathroom blender moment didn’t inspire me because it made sense—it inspired me because it didn’t. It was weird, unexpected, and unapologetically real. And isn’t that, in its own chaotic way, what love should be? Not tied up in a bow, but blended into a mishmash of shared laughs, unedited emotions, and the perfect imperfectness that makes the whole thing worth it.

So, here’s my challenge: Find a little “blender energy” in your life this week. Laugh at the oddities. Love with wild curiosity. And the next time something bizarre throws you off—whether it’s a misplaced appliance or a partner confession—they prefer the Batman Forever soundtrack over Hans Zimmer’s Dark Knight score—take a beat. Understand it. Lean into it. You never know; inspiration might be waiting behind a closed bathroom door.