Knowing that
later in the evening I’d fear for the week ahead, I decided to give myself a
positive and energizing boost by decluttering.
When tackling your minimalist goals, it’s important to divide and conquer
items. I began with books, college
notes, textbooks folders and paper memorabilia that were stored in my
bookshelf.
Parting with
this first round of books was easier than I thought. Most books, I read. Others
were required from college classes and the rest I had acquired somehow and
never even opened. All these books went in
a big bag and into a donation pile at New York Library (there may have been a
George Michael Dual CD set in there as a bonus). The
text books? They went into the recycling
bin.
The next
items were a little more difficult to let go of. Awards and certificates I had earned in
grammar school for excellence in art, reading, attendance, science, and
diligence were stored in a wildlife folder at the bottom of my bookshelf. I only reached down and opened this folder
once a year to recall the sweet little childhood moments, which sometimes left me
feeling uneasy because the awards later turned into high school suspension
letters.
A little background: My parents
divorced when I was 9 and my mom, soon after, got remarried to a nice fellow that
became the dad I always wanted. He spent
time with me and really listened. It broke
my heart when my mother divorced again, especially because we had nowhere to go
from there. We became nomads. We were homeless.
Family and friends
of the family loaned us their sleeper couches or air mattresses for a few years
while my mom worked temporary factory jobs. In the meantime, my sister and I started
high school and were blossoming into little ladies. This was a tough transition for me because my
parents had prevented me from going to private school (all I knew) or dance
school (all I dreamed of) and forced me into a public school with my
sister. My parents never showed that
they cared about the awards I won in grammar school, nor did they listen to me and
accept the high schools I pursued. I
thought dreams weren’t important. I felt
alone and didn’t understand my purpose in the world.
Almost all
throughout high school, I hung out with the bad kids, cut class, got into
fights, and disrespected my teachers and parents. Suspension letters were in the mailbox where
we stayed on a regular basis.
The grammar
school awards and high school suspension reports brought back sad memories no
matter how I attempted to angle them, so they all went into the recycling bin. Those sweet and sour times are in my memories
and I don’t need papers to help me remember.
To put a little
fun back into decluttering, I walked over to my closet and pulled dresses I had
worn for New Year’s Eve parties, weddings, and dates out of the closet and into
my arms. I remembered dancing in
them. These were all donated to a thrift
store in the East Village, NYC.
Although
these items sat in my room for many years, getting rid of them helped me
understand that they weighed heavy on my emotions. There seems to be more room to breathe.
