Less is so much more

My husband and I are not minimalists by any means. Personally, my version of hell is a white room that has a white rug, three pieces of white or clear furniture, a lamp, and one or two succulents in it, but nothing else.   I’m not bashing anyone who loves this particular style and who can live happily in it – all I’m saying is that I don’t and I can’t. I can appreciate how clean and bright it looks but what I can’t wrap my head around is living in a space that brings to mind that white room in The Matrix.

Together, my husband and I didn’t exactly do the entire KonMari method, but we did keep things that we love and that make us feel cosy and happy in our home. And while we aren’t minimalists by any means, we are happy that paring down our possessions has allowed us to style our home in a way that truly reflects who we are. In the great purge we discovered old treasures that had been hidden away for years and made rom for them out in the open so that we can enjoy them every day and share them with our guests.

But getting to this point has been pretty much as long as our entire marriage.

By the time my husband and I were married and living together, we had been living on our own or with college roommates for about ten years each. Our households collided in the most spectacular domestic train wreck imaginable. When we were finally able to start sorting through everything after all my belongings were moved in, we discovered that we had way too much mismatched flatware, four hair dryers (two of which my husband didn’t even realize he still had), two toasters, two fondue sets (still in the box), six incomplete or mismatched sets of measuring cups and spoons, and more chairs than the maximum number of people we could ever have over at one time.

Fast forward about a year later to us sitting together in our tiny bathroom – me on the toilet, him on the edge of the tub, our cat on his lap and our dog at my feet – as we stared at a positive pregnancy test and realized: there’s no way we can have a baby here. Not only was our third-floor row house walk-up not really the greatest in terms of construction and size, we just had too many things and hadn’t had enough time or space since I’d moved in to really get rid of what really had to go.

A few months later, we were packing up again to move to a new apartment that was a little bit bigger and a lot better for our changing needs – and doing the biggest purge either of us have ever done of our belongings so that we could fit into a new apartment. Even an upgrade up to 900 square feet of indoor space with bigger balconies and more storage space (fun fact: we had only two cramped closets in the old place) we knew we had to be merciless in getting rid of belongings. In July 2018 we moved everything that made it past the first cut into our new place, and promptly realized we still had a lot to get rid of before we would be able to actually feel like we had a proper home.

When I went on maternity leave in October 2018, we were able to fully repaint and furnish the baby’s room, get rid of a few more boxes, and do two or three more trips to the donation center. Then our son arrived, and we were swept up into the sleep-deprived whirlwind of being first-time parents.

The last leg of our tidying up journey lasted from March of this year to just a few weeks ago. I still had boxes and bins staring at me from our shared home office, as well as one last huge box of clothes. I set myself a deadline: celebrating my husband’s 30th birthday (also my son’s 5th month milestone) in April. I strung up a motivational carrot: having my mother, sister, and brother-in-law over for coffee and cake. I motivated myself: watching some organization and cleaning routine videos on YouTube, and pep talking myself into a good headspace for getting work done.

Then I stared down my foes, and like Teddy Roosevelt I charged up the hill.

Sitting now in my clean, fresh home three weeks after that last push towards domestic tidiness, I am quite happy with the progress we’ve made and what we’ve accomplished in our home. I’m also particularly proud of myself for getting rid of so many things, including things that I’ve been lugging around since 2008 (or longer!) that I really didn’t need anymore – including journals that only seemed to have anger and sadness recorded in hem, textbooks that I barely used after I had finished the courses for which I’d bought them, and clothes that had never fit me at any stage of physical fitness.

Saying goodbye to things that were souvenirs of who I was during chameleonic and moody phases has actually helped me appreciate the experiences that formed me into the woman I am now, and realize that I didn’t need to hold on to every last artifact of my existence to feel whole anymore.  I just need the ones that continue to teach me, help me grow, and be happy where I am now.

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