Last year, at the end of September, my fiance, kitty and I made a small move from my mother’s attic to our own 415 sq.ft. studio apartment. Before that move, I discovered minimalism and was sorting and purging my things as if my life depended on it. I had mountains of clothes I had never worn, every school assignment from 5th grade and random items that weren’t even opened because I didn’t want to mess it up by actually using it. I was a pack rat who believed that I loved the items. I took good care of them, but now, more than a year later, I can’t seem to remember what on Earth I gave away. I have only regretted one thing: losing a wooden box my uncle made when he was a youngster, but someone accidentally threw it away after I had already moved.
By the time that move came, I knew I wasn’t done. I had given up 10 trash bags of clothes, all the items that were still in its original packaging and over 70% of my paper clutter. It took 3 trips using my fiance’s compact car and my mom’s soccer-mom van to move all of our stuff over. For just two young adults in their early twenties, I’d say that is a lot of stuff. Granted, we had a couple items of furniture and a bed; it was still no excuse. If my ultimate goal is to move around and travel, I have to make this moving thing easier. And, that means getting rid of more stuff. The less stuff you have to move, the easier your move will be. ( tweet this )