A Guide to Emotional Decluttering
Amongst the abundance of ‘self-help’ monolith, there is a plethora of content that repeatedly screams: Throw away those toxic friends, toxic habits, toxic relationships with food, toxic relationships with your father, toxic bosses, toxic traits, toxic attachment styles, and toxic preconceptions. The violent focus seems to be on the act of letting go or throwing away, rather than a recognition of what can be salvaged from the mess. Instead of this wasteful rhetoric, I offer a slightly more sustainable, productive approach: ‘emotional decluttering’.
‘Emotional decluttering’ is not about throwing away the parts of ourselves that we dislike – nor the parts that we know no longer serve an instrumental purpose. It would be far too easy to simply throw these parts away; tying them up in a black plastic sack and leaving the binman to deal with the waste. Disregard only creates a landfill elsewhere. Thilafushi is an island in the Maldives that is made entirely of rubbish. Every time I am reminded of this, I am hit with a wave of nausea. But this sentiment serves as a reminder to be more considerate. When we realise there are things – or habits and people – that we must throw away, we need to be purposeful and mindful.
So, sometimes, it is important to sit with the mess. Have a look around and try to remember where it all came from. After a while, start to pick some parts up and fold the scraps away in a bedside drawer. Leave them within reach, but out of sight. The drawer will occasionally ease open a crack, and you may be tempted to play with the scraps for old times’ sake. For instance, we all have a moth-eaten, discoloured crop top from our teen years that we squeeze into sometimes; or a past lover that we call when we have just been dumped; or a film we watch again and again because we already know the ending.
There is no shame in going back to what was once a source of comfort. The true strength comes from putting it back down again, back in the drawer. It is so much harder to let go when it sits beside you, but it shows immeasurable strength. You know that you have truly let go when you no longer feel an urge to open the drawer, despite it being within reach. Like old clothes, the parts of our lives that we know we must move on from deserve to be recognised, ruminated on, and considered.
So pick it up, hold it in your hands, look at yourself in the mirror as you hold it against your body, and ask yourself: “Would I really wear this again?”
