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July 15 - July 21, 2018
At one point, I’d put thousands of dollars on my credit cards for this stuff—stuff I purchased with every intention of using, but only because I told myself it would somehow help. I wasn’t good enough, but this stuff would make me better. I wanted to read, wear, and do everything so I could become the person I thought I should be. Having these items in my home proved it was possible. I would do it all one day, and become a better person one day. This time, one day never came.
I started with the books and asked myself a question I’d never considered the answer to before: Who are you buying this for: the person you are, or the person you want to be? This should’ve been the question I’d asked before buying each and every one of them.
Then I spent a year sorting through the mess and figuring out who I really was. A writer and a reader. Hiker and traveler. Dog owner and animal lover. Sister, daughter, and friend. It turned out I had never been someone who valued material objects. I valued the people in my life and the experiences we shared together. None of that could be found in the belongings in my home. It had always been in my heart.

