Getting rid of things is hard. I’ve always been the kind of person that gets emotionally attached to everything, even if it is small and rather pointless. For example, I have kept a stack of loose post it notes with random things my friends wrote in tenth grade just because I thought they were funny. I hate throwing things away — what if I need them later? What if I just NEED this ugly t-shirt that is three sizes too small one day?
Needless to say, coming to college was a big shocker for a collector like me. Living in a dorm in college can really teach someone how to cut down to what is REALLY necessary. My freshman year, I definitely still had a decent amount of extra stuff that I didn’t need. But my sophomore year, I moved into a significantly smaller room, so I knew that I had to get rid of what I did not need, or else it literally would not fit. However, once I started to get rid of things, I realized how much more I really used the things I loved and kept.
You might be confused. Take my closet for example. It used to be packed to the brim with all sorts of clothing. It was so bad to the point that I wouldn’t even want to open it because I didn’t want to deal with what was inside. I forgot about pieces of clothing that I loved because they literally were lost within the mix.
I've pretty much spent the past 48 hours cleaning out my room back at home since I just finished the spring semester. I had always thought that getting rid of things would make me feel like I was missing out, but in fact, it made me more aware of what I really did have. It's actually kind of therapeutic! Quality over quantity — am I right?
