Next month: A bake sale so I can go to Europe...

For years, I've been trying to simplify my life. I spent the majority of my teens and early 20's as a self-proclaimed pack-rat, but the more times I moved, the more annoyed I became with transporting all my cherished crap. I got pretty good at giving things away, and if I had any pack-rat tendencies remaining, living with my ex quickly cured me of them. 

In my eyes, he was a borderline hoarder, although I'm sure he would disagree. I remember when we moved into our house together, watching the seemingly endless parade of boxes being carried inside, filled with old magazine articles, newspaper clippings, knick-knacks and various thrift store finds he'd collected and held onto so dearly for so many years. I spent the majority of our relationship trying to get him to purge these things so I could organize what remained into tidy piles and decorative boxes and, in essence, stripping him entirely of who he was as reflected by what he possessed. I didn't see it that way at the time... I do now. 

See, the way I understood it, when you moved in with someone, you were supposed to discard your respective mish-mash of "single" junk and start spending your weekends at Pottery Barn buying wall sconces and matching sets of things. That's what couples do, right?

I've always been good at making a house into a home. I would have made a fantastic 50's housewife, what with my martini mixing skills and penchant for doing household chores in a dress. So during this time, I embraced my "nesting" instincts 100%. Every spare minute or dollar I had, went to decorating our space and making it cozy for us. 

Recently, I had an epiphany as I was unpacking my Christmas decorations. Amidst the strands of lights and boxes of ornaments, there were also serving trays, place mats and various other table-top accoutrements meant to embellish a beautiful dining room table I no longer own, in a home where I no longer reside. It occurred to me that I've been holding on to a lot of items from my "former life" which I no longer have any use for. 

Thus began my process of "reverse nesting". The last few weeks have been spent filling boxes with things I've decided never to move again. I want them out of my life. I'm tired of wrapping things in newspaper every few years. The plan is to get down to the bare minimum, so moving is a breeze and I can live in a small, efficient place and spend my time and money traveling extensively, because that is what the new Me wants. The current Me... the Me who barely recognizes the person who purchased all of those things just a few short years ago. This 'Me' is going to sell all of her furniture, buy a plane ticket to somewhere tropical and never look back.