I may be evolving into a reluctant, unintentional hoarder. It’s difficult to admit but the evidence is literally piling up around me as I ponder my current estate of stuff.

This acquisition of material goods and useless items has not been purposeful, it has been through a lifetime of getting, acts of carelessness and maybe even laziness on my part. Keeping this and storing that – thinking that one day I might need the useless collections for some minor purpose.

I, dear readers, have allowed ‘things’ to pile up on my humble estate and in my lovely home and now find myself befuddled at the extent of my useless possessions.

How could this happen to the organized and suave person I once was? When did the walls of my home become the canvass for every piece of décor that caught my eye? Why is it so very difficult to purge?

I feel like I owe my dear mama, a lifelong minimalist, an apology. She would cringe if she could see the weight those walls are bearing, not to mention the nearby bulging kitchen cabinets and closets that are crying out for an intervention of sorts.

While some stuff is essential, most is questionable. Take, for instance, the emergency rations I have shelved on the enclosed back porch. Do I really need five bags of self-rising cornmeal, jars and jars of outdated canned goods and multiple, 20-pound bags of rice?

Wouldn’t it be wiser to consume one bag before purchasing more? What in world am I prepping for? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Then there are my collections: lovely head vases from the 1940s, 50s, 60s and so on, the Shawnee Cornware my husband and I picked up in our travels, the green Moon and Stars glassware I inherited from my late mother-in-law, my carnival glass, the lovely Depression glass in my China cabinet, the various gifts I have been given from those who love me, the ‘antiques’ that fill the spaces and places and corners and cracks… you get the picture.

It has been a lifetime effort, and I have become uselessly sentimental over things that are taking up much needed space. Hopefully, admission is the first step in my recovery!

Just last week, I began a journey to rid my humble surroundings of the odds and ends that are crowding me out of my home: a collection of plastic bowls and storage containers that have yellowed with age, gadgets that are missing pieces, sippy cups from when my grandsons were tiny tots and old store receipts from the early 1990s stuck into purses and long forgotten. That only skims the surface.

I lugged odds and ends to the outdoor shed, stacking it up to the ceiling. I crammed large bags of tossed items into the garbage bins. I trashed useless junk. I decluttered and cleaned until it made a difference, then took a deep breath of satisfaction. It looked lovely. I liked what I saw. It was liberating! Oh, what joy! Mama would be proud. My kids will be happy upon my expiration as they will not be required to declutter their inheritance!

The place looks spacious and open, and the walls are once again safe and weightless!

I am jubilant – I am an overcomer! I am in control. I am the queen of clean! I am going antiquing next week…