One of my ex lived in a monstrous, indescribable mess. I was especially shocked by two things - a flat layer of drowned dog wool and dust instead of a carpet on the floor and the way you want to eat - choose the least dirty plate in the dishwasher. I thought for a long time how he would not be ashamed of inviting me, a woman, to visit in such conditions. Then I noticed that he probably expected the awakening of my primordial female instinct, forcing everything to shake and wash. The breakdown came out. The education proved to be stronger: I was taught that as a guest in the house, you have no right to point out to the owner the shortcomings, even if he eats from a canned bowl and smokes on the floor. Silence and smile.
I recovered very much then. We mostly ordered pizza (on my request) - it can be eaten without equipment.