Home is where your Pyrex is.

And your shoes. And your KitchenAid standing mixer. And...

I've been writing this post in my head for days now and there's no way to say it without sounding both insensitive and sappy. So here I go...

I'm overly sentimental about things. I'm a maximalist. And for the last year, my family and I have been pared down in a small apartment with just the minimum. And it's not that I longed for my stuff daily, in fact, I didn't think about it much. But I knew that was temporary and since I've been reunited with my belongings, I was so happy to see them. I know that "home" is not your "stuff" but without my stuff, I didn't feel at home.

Americans have a lot of stuff. We had to go to the Container Store yesterday because one of the Elfa closet organizers was missing a piece, and I couldn't believe how packed that store was. A hundred people in there buying contraptions to organize their stuff. On the way there, we whizzed by a homeless encampment under the overpass. Austin recently passed an ordinance that allows for public camping and since then, there have been elaborate structures erected with tents and shopping carts and lean-tos. As we drove, I wondered if they longed for the home from which they'd had been displaced, one that had photo albums and mementos and a favorite blanket or sweater. I wondered if it felt like home without their stuff. 

My son recently turned 17 and based on his room design plans, I knew that he would be parting with some things upon moving back in. I didn't know how it would effect me though. I expected that he'd finally let the Legos go but he even wanted to release things he'd just been gifted two Christmases ago. It's like I want him to be more sentimental than he is, I want him to think about home in the same way I do. As I've been unpacking, I keep thinking about the day that both my kids are gone. Perhaps I'll think about stuff and home differently, maybe home will be everything my husband and I can pack into an RV and drive across the country. At least I can make decisions about things, what to keep, what to let go. When I was still drinking, I would let things linger in boxes for years after a move. I've changed, and I'm certain I'll change again.

One thing I am sure about is this, I no longer wish I was someone I'm not: a minimalist, unsentimental, more cursory in my decision-making. I spent many years beating myself into submission of who I thought I "should" be, but none of this became crystal clear until I got sober. If you need help removing alcohol from your life so you can trace the essence of who you are, I can help you. Sign up for Change Your Story today. Today is a good day to begin.