some might call me a pack rat.
my husband may think that I teeter on the verge of 'hoarder.'
but I l like to call myself a collector.
the problem is, the clutter that comes with being a collector.
some collectors can keep their items neat and tidy and have a place for everything.
when my home was my own,
dogs and kids came along,
i was able to do that as well.
i could put my fingers on every single item in my home.
i knew where everything was.
now - who the hell knows!?!
this issue came up for me recently
as I debated over whether to sell my fabulous dashiki top and dress
in my vintage booth at a local antique mall.
i've had them for at least 11 years
and i've probably worn each a total of twice.
but i have them when i "need" them.
i have them when someone needs a costume.
i have them to remind me of who i was -
before i got married and had children,
before my butt spread and my world narrowed.
they make me cool right?
if i ever need to prove that - through the
yoga pants and exhaustion,
through the constant worry
and new-found fear of flying by the seat of my pants -
i am still that girl,
i can parade these out, to say
"see, i really AM cool!
see, i have cool things.
see, this is who i used to be
- or who i believed that i could be,
or who i wanted to be
- or who i still am;
doesn't that count for SOMETHING?"
in the end, i put a price on them and put them in my booth.
it's time to let go.
time to make room for the new me;
it's time to realize that the broader butt
and narrower world
are my choice - not WHO I AM.
my expression of who i am is a daily evolution.
the important thing is to continue to evolve.
this post seems to have taken on a life of it's own. when i started it, my point was that i hang onto old hurts and other negative emotions the way that i hang onto things. but i like the way this is going, so stay tuned for "hanging on - the series." or more appropriately - "letting go - the series."
in the mean time, please tell me what material things you are hanging onto and why.