As I dive deeper into this 40 bags in 40 days project, I make these public confessions on Instagram:

I am a hoarder of leftovers, hotel cups, fast food utensils and napkins, spices, hangers, laundry detergent containers, hotel toiletries, baby teeth, Santa letters, greeting cards, and credit card statements.

On Day 6, I confronted my hoarding of leftovers. I can’t say no when people pack me food to bring home, and I always take home food from a restaurant, no matter how little. By the end of the week, the refrigerator is full, but no one wants to gamble on food poisoning. So it just piles up.

While cleaning out my closet on Day 9, I found a box of sympathy cards from my dad’s death in 2005. I read through how shocked and sad everyone was. I kept one letter from an old fraternity brother and tossed the rest. That was a major step for me.

Each day the project takes longer and longer. I schedule an hour for a specific area, and an hour becomes three… and then I am left scrambling the rest of the day.

Work halted around Day 17. I was scheduled to do the garage. There are bins filled with old statements to be filed, manuals of appliances and gadgets, photos that were supposed to be put in albums, and the kids’ achievement certificates and awards.

I worked on and off for three days, and it really was draining.

Old bank and credit card statements reminded me how much money I have wasted on stuff.  But I moved past the shame and felt relieved to finally get rid of it all. The shredder overheated twice. I found $45 in random envelopes and cards. And then, I finished the piles.

There are still boxes of papers from grad school, PTA stuff, and beautiful cards celebrating me.  Am I keeping this junk just to validate the years that I stayed home as a housewife?

My kids will not interpret these bins and boxes as my personal achievements or treasures from my past. They never knew that girl, student, aspiring professional… They will look at all these boxes and say, “why did mom save all this sh….stuff?”

One reader referred to her battle with paperwork as “shredding remnants of a past life.” That’s it. The stuff in the garage and basement are things that used to define me:  a grad student, a PTA volunteer, a young mom.

The artifacts I am finding no longer depict my present self.  I know that I will never wear any of my outdated business suits, read all the books that are in storage, play with the dozens of play doh moulds, or make homemade ice cream.  It’s time to let it all go.

As I fill each bag, I am excited to make room for whatever is coming.

Thanks for sticking with me on this project.  Did you jump in on this challenge?  Share with us your progress.