Decluttering Diary
“Decluttering isn’t just about tidying up. It’s about deciding what truly deserves space—in your home, your mind, and your heart.”
Back in early 2023, before the whirlwind of shifts, deadlines, and dreams that would soon take over my calendar, I made a quiet promise to myself: I will let go of what no longer serves me. The clutter, the excess, the things I kept out of guilt or nostalgia. The journey began not with a grand gesture, but with a quiet morning, a warm mug of coffee, and a copy of Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
I remember reading those pages like they were a personal letter. Every line reminded me that letting go doesn’t mean forgetting—it means making space. Space for peace. Space for purpose. Space to breathe.
Morning Vibes and Gloomy Skies
I started slow. The bedroom first. The place where the light filters softly through the curtains in the morning—on good days, anyway. Most mornings in England are wrapped in a familiar grey, like the one I captured in a photo of my cherry-printed duvet. The caption read: “Another gloomy day in England! Where art thou sun?!” But even in the gloom, there’s comfort in a freshly made bed and a blanket that smells like lavender fabric softener. Little things.
Kitchen Chronicles:Where I Saw the Change Most
The real transformation happened in the kitchen. I took everything out—cups, bowls, kettles, forgotten gadgets. Some were gifts, some were impulse buys, and some had simply outlived their joy.
The red-tiled backsplash stood out starkly as I rearranged everything. I remember staring at the open cabinet, wondering, “Why do I have three versions of the same mug?” That was the moment I decided: I’m keeping what I use, what I love, and what brings calm. The rest would find new homes—friends, family, charity shops.
And so the box began. A box of gently used items, filled with memories and new beginnings.
A Home That Breathes
As I decluttered, other corners of the home began to breathe. The living area became a soft sanctuary of light, plants, and the warm glow of a standing lamp in the evening. I captured a photo of my green clock and leafy monstera with the words floating on screen: “Arc AngeL… Lhang… LOVE…”—a serendipitous collage of words that accidentally spelled the kind of love I was learning to show my space.
Books, of course, were non-negotiable. A little note I added to a photo of my bookshelf read, “Nope, books are not included.” Because while I can let go of a mixing bowl or a third spatula, I’m not quite ready to part with stories.
Halfway Through (And Still Going)
The project wasn’t done in a weekend. It was slow and emotional. I often paused to reflect, take pictures, or just sit with the memories attached to every object. That wooden radio cabinet? It still holds a photo of Calvin. And every time I pass it, I still miss him.
What’s Next?
This post is a late one—captured in 2023 but only finding its way to the blog now. Life got busy, as it always does. But as I sit here in 2025, with fresh eyes and a deeper sense of what “home” really means, I’m ready to continue where I left off.
I’ll be posting a decluttering update soon—what stayed, what’s changed, and how my definition of joy has evolved.
Ask: Does this still serve me? Does it spark peace?
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, don’t start big. Start where you are. One drawer. One shelf. One moment of honesty with yourself. Ask: Does this still serve me? Does it spark peace? And if not, give yourself permission to let go.
Because sometimes, the real transformation doesn’t begin with buying something new—but with releasing what no longer belongs.
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