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The picture frame I made in seventh grade shop class. All of my old geometry tests. Dried-up, sparkly body glitter from the Limited Too. My dorm room posters from freshman year. My first boyfriend's Giants sweatshirt.

I was a hoarder. All of the above, along with countless other childhood and early adulthood relics, were taking up space in my apartment. Space I didn't have.

Granted, $800 a month doesn't by you much in downtown Washington, D.C. But as much as I wanted to blame my small apartment, owning two trumpets when I hadn't played either of them in a decade definitely wasn't helping the situation.

It also didn't help that my parents had decided that since I was a big girl now, it was time for them to divest of all of my stuff.

Closets became so full of old greeting cards, collect-'em-all t-shirts that I picked up at everything from bachelorette parties to bar mitzvahs, that there wasn't enough room for the clothes I actually wore, so I piled up clothes on the floor and on my bed.

My bookshelves held doubled-up rows of Statistics and Economics textbooks that I convinced myself would be absolutely necessary to my future success.

I had boxes filled with photos that I was convinced I'd finally organize into cohesive picture albums.

And then came the move.

I was going overseas for a once-in-a-lifetime job offer. My stuff couldn't all come with me.

It was painful. But it forced me to go through my possessions, item by item, and figure out what I actually needed and what was taking up space. The process was full of "BUT! BUT!" where I tried to justify keeping everything.

BUT that Magic the Dragon Beanie Baby was retired! BUT It took 10-year-old me six trips to Hallmark to find it! BUT it could be an heirloom!

BUT those Victoria's Secret sweatpants that say "Pink" on the butt are like, the zeitgeist of an entire generation encapsulated in a single item of clothing! And sure, i can't wear them outside of the house anymore without being ridiculed, but I'll admit they're pretty flattering.

If you asked me back then I would have told you I was simply sentimental, but I know better now. And here's a pro tip: IF YOU DON'T USE IT, GET RID OF IT!

Give it away, sell it on eBay, have a yard sale, and if nobody wants it, just put it in the trash. My apartment looked like a garbage dump, but when everything was gone it felt like such a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I could FIND things again! I didn't have to rifle through tons of clothes that didn't fit well, didn't look good, or were old and out of date. I could grab anything from my closet without having to analyze it and be ready to go in minutes.

I left the country with less than two suitcases of clothes, and I used them to make a capsule wardrobe where, for the first time in my life, I ACTUALLY LIKED EVERYTHING IN MY CLOSET. It seemed so obvious after it happened.

Even better, I could finally invite people over on a moment's notice without having to do my standard game of "take fifteen minutes to throw everything in my bedroom and close the door."

I went through The Great Purge of 2010 before The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up became a cult classic, so I didn't thank each item for it's service or kiss it goodbye or whatever else I'm supposed to do. But I don't miss anything.

I got rid of the body glitter, the geometry tests, and the dorm room posters. I got rid of the sweatpants and most of the old greeting cards. I got rid of bags and bags of clothes, of free dry cleaner crappy wire hangers, of the bread maker that I just never used.

There were some things that I just couldn't part with, though. After putting it in the giveaway pile, I did go back and keep my high school boyfriend's Giants sweater. But I put it out of my family's eyesight.

After all, we're Eagles fans now.

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