One thing that always gets mentioned by those who have hit the road, but yet conveniently never captured, is just exactly how hard it is to downsize. There are many who have romanticized leaving everything behind and chasing adventure. This is a fine take, but it leaves out a glaring hole in every story: the leaving behind. Hi, my name is Summer and I am a packrat. I’m not a hoarder, but I do tend to attach sentimental value to random items like that tshirt I wore to play backyard football in highschool 20 years ago (yes, Icebox still lives, thanks. Go Mongeese! and yes, I still have the final BFE trophy back home in VA. Don’t ask.) I have a set of books my grandparents gave me as a child in ’91. Or just maybe I still have that nail polish I’ve worn once a few years ago and hey, it hasn’t dried out yet and maybe I’ll wear it again? Okay, okay. It can go, no big deal.

When we first starting talking about this decision, my underlying anxiety buzz that usually sits at a simmer these days blew into a full-blown boil over the first time Drew said those hateful, hateful words “you can’t take all of these books” and “when are you going to go through your closet?”

How dare?!

If you know me personally, you know that I read as if I am breathing. I tend to read between 100-150 books a year and until about 2 years ago I refused to get a kindle because I’m old school and prefer physical books so I can skim back to info or know how far along I am. Library book sales are like the 2nd and 3rd coming of Christmas every year. Thus, I had a lot of books. Drew attempted to compromise and allowed for space in storage for 15 boxes of books. You read that right. 15. Not enough, right? RIGHT? He kindly reminded me that he would never say a word to me about how many books I put on my kindle so why not just get the ebook for whatever I wanted to read and keep those that were actually important (like all of my signed copies). Okay, fine. I didn’t like it, but I ripped the band aid and managed to create 5 book boxes. I may or may not have entered a state of mourning for a few days as I saw 4 armloads of books that remained walk out my door to their new homes. (I love my dear friends who all reminded me that if I want them back that I know where they will be because, hey, that’s what makes them such great friends y’all.) Drew boxed up the rest to donate and it’s about 8 boxes? I refuse to watch again to count. It hurts, but I can replace those on Kindle. Or at another library book sale.

and then.

The main reason we built this house was that it came with 2 closets in the master, mine being half the size of the garage. That’s not an exaggeration. This has allowed me to accumulate a myriad of items from formal dresses, shelves of t-shirts, boxes of pictures, scarves upon scarves upon scarves, a box of purses and bags/totes of all sizes, no less than 20 jackets of varying weights and fabrics, not to mention shoes for every occasion. (Do NOT let Drew lie to you, he has more shoes than I do.) Just thinking about it now makes me start to itch. I am fully prepared to spend the afternoon in tears as I try on all of the clothes I know good and well will not still fit and agonize over which of the 4 Auburn jackets I want to take (this is my blog so you don’t get to judge me. They’re all different types and we’re SEC fans. As they say, “Nuff, said”).

How do you possibly choose? How do I possibly whittle down 8 yrs of closet allotment into 4ft? Can it be done? Can it be done fully sober? This is only partially in jest. It’s not until you have to start physically parting with your stuff that you realize just exactly what you’re leaving behind. It’s not just stuff, it’s a lifestyle. It’s convenience. It’s laziness, frankly. It’s avoidance, because you can. It’s comfort. It’s a tether we create of our own making and cutting that cord can physically hurt. I told you. I’m a planner. What if I NEED something in there? Why should I waste the money to replace it if I already own it?

I promise I’ll get there. It is surmountable to be certain. But. Anyone who tells you this part is easy? Liar, liar, pants on fire.