I was not born into an organized home. I grew up learning how to save everything, keep it for a rainy day, or hang out to it out of guilt for the price or who made it for you. Stuff was very stressful in my childhood home, at least to me. To those around me stuff meant things. Clothes had meaning beyond covering your body. Objects represented events and memories whether they were beautiful or not. All of these things weighed heavily on me.
I tried to be what I saw around me. I tried to care about the clothes, trinkets, and status symbols. When I left for college I finally realized that it was not who I was. I looked around me and saw girls living happily without all those clothes. They didn't have 30 sweaters or 15 pairs of jeans. They didn't have 10 different dresses for church for only the Spring or 6 watches. I could be free and still be happy.
I remember the day I cleaned out my closet. I took several trash bags of clothing to the dumpster (I didn't know what else to do with it back then). My organizing days had begun! I had found my freedom.
Now I am 35 with a husband, 3 boys, 3 dogs, and a home. I buy clothes that are comfortable and reasonably priced. Cluttered countertops and things piled about still really bother me but I don't always have the energy to tackle them.
But the most important thing I realized is if it isn't organized I can't function. If things are out of place so am I. Now everyday clutter that can be put away quickly doesn't bother me. It has a home I just haven't put it away yet. It is the stuff that doesn't have a home that gets to me, wears me down, and ultimately effects my long term sense of self.
Ridiculous? I think so but it is who I am. I can't get around it. I have tried. So today I will be reorganizing the house a bit. I will be very happy when it is done. My husband (who will be doing the heavy lifting) probably won't agree.
Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas!