A few days ago I went into my closet with one goal in mind: take out what I don’t need.
I did not expect to ransack the space, but I couldn’t stop cleaning the house! To be quite honest, I.Was.A.Mad.Woman!
Once my closet was completely emptied out, my heart was still racing. A powerful momentum was pumping throughout my body. I was on fire! So, I did what any normal person would do. I went through all my drawers and made sure not to miss anything else!
I gave away 40% of my clothes.
Now, when I say I gave away 40% of my clothes, what I mean is: I gave away 40% of my clothes! A huge chunk of my beloved wardrobe is out of my life, and I’m still in shock that I’m not even embellishing the percentage.
It’s not that I don’t like donating clothing. I’m all about the love! I’m happy that I loaded up bags of clothes and dropped them off in a clothing bin that helps inner city children in Los Angeles.
I’m just really surprised that I was able to unleash this side of me and not allow the “what”, “if’s”, and “maybe’s” get in the way.
Usually I look at a shirt that I haven’t worn in about a year, and remember it fitting kind of awkward last time I had it on. Then what initially goes through my mind is “eh, I can do without this” but then am instantly stopped and think “well, maybe I should have another go before making up my mind”. Yeah… that shirt continues to then sit on a shelf never being touched for another couple of years.
What is it that stops us from saying goodbye to something that doesn’t even hold a special place in our hearts? This is the question I’ve been asking myself over and over since my inner maniac came out.
It’s not greed. It doesn’t mean we’re horders, either.
For me it was not wanting change.
I’m able to control this piece of fabric, and don’t want it to slip away from my hands. It’s mine and it took so long to do this because I wasn’t ready to let go.
I turned 25 a few months ago, or what some believe to be as the start of stressing “OMG, I’m not a kid anymore!”. On my birthday, I don’t know what happened, but I randomly started to be one of those people freaking out. This lasted 10 minutes. For me it wasn’t, oh no, quarter life crisis. It was, wow, this isn’t where I thought I’d be by this age.
I spent my whole 24th year really stressed. I had slowly been losing the confidence I moved to LA with, and needed to rebuild it all over again.
You see, there’s a reason I’m not in that specific place I imagined myself to be by this time. It’s because I skipped over the challenges that are thrown at you every day. Life is hard. But you need that.
What I keep slowly realizing more and more every day is that I was not at all ready for that life yet! I feel like I’m only starting to be now!
Being 25 is gold for me! I’m not going to say I feel like, maybe, I am a woman. No, I am one! I’m more prepared to go through bumps on the road now and keep pushing forward then I was before.
I don’t need to keep every item in my bedroom. There are people who will cherish some of them more than I ever would have cared for, and will give them a better home. It’s no longer a threatening feeling to give up something because I feel like I’m losing grip.
I’ve got this!