two small – After months of furnishing a new Seattle townhouse and building a life around objects, the author lost her job and began letting go—downsizing from a three-bedroom home to a basement apartment and eventually to a 50-square-foot storage unit. Traveling the West
For months. the author in Seattle chased a version of home that felt perfect on sight and calm in the mind. She spent that time searching for the perfect couch for her new Seattle townhouse. She debated which family photos would fill the collage picture frame she found online. She bought coordinated throw pillows, rattan barstools, and a whale-shaped butter dish she loved.
She didn’t come to that kind of attention easily. Feeling too embarrassed to bring friends home as a kid. she was teased relentlessly for wearing the same two pairs of generic jeans over and over. At 15. she started working and never forgot what it felt like to buy the coveted pair of Guess jeans with her first paycheck.
The author thought possessions would give her the security she always wanted. That feeling stuck with her for decades as she collected mementos, art supplies, homesteading equipment, and hundreds of books she imagined would one day fill her own personal library.
Then everything shifted. She lost her job, became an empty nester, and realized how exhausted she was from paying to maintain a life she barely had time to enjoy.
Within a few months, she began letting go. She gave away almost everything she owned, put what was left in storage, and started slow-traveling through midlife. Downsizing demanded a new scale of living—from a three-bedroom townhouse to a small basement apartment. and then to a 50-square-foot storage unit.
What made the change hard wasn’t just the space. She was so anxious about letting go that she packed her storage unit like a Tetris puzzle, labeled every box, and created an inventory spreadsheet so she could always find the keepsakes, family documents, and backup clothes she stored away.
Her four-door Kia Forte became her home away from home while she drove up and down the West Coast as a traveling house and pet sitter. chasing the sun and trying to figure out who she was aside from being a mom. caregiver. and corporate employee. Even on the road, she didn’t fully relinquish her creature comforts. She packed her car with her favorite blanket. a travel blender. and a coffee grinder so she could make coffee the way she liked it.
But the pattern began to show in quieter ways. She noticed that whenever she walked into a store, she stopped wandering the aisles and headed straight for what she came to buy.
She also felt the consequences of trying to carry a future version of herself. Visiting a friend who shares her love of reading. she was given a stack of books she had no room for. She felt grateful and overwhelmed at the same time. The books were all on her to-be-read list, and she wondered where she would put them. Books had been the hardest thing for her to give away. and she was still holding on to the dream that she would someday have her own personal library—comfy chairs. floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. and her kids’ favorite childhood stories—still packed away in her storage unit. She wondered if there was any room left for a few more.
That was the moment it hit her. full force: she had spent a huge portion of her life defining herself by her stuff. The books weren’t just something to read. The whale-shaped butter dish wasn’t just kitchenware. The Guess jeans weren’t just pants. They were evidence—of a woman with a beautiful. welcoming home. of a mom who preserved all the family memories. of an artist surrounded by books and supplies. and of the kid who no longer felt like an outsider.
Along the road, she’d collected new memories too: friendships and adventures during her life on the road. Those were the things she wanted to keep collecting—experiences, relationships, and the freedom to make choices about what matters most.
She’s still traveling with two small suitcases and wearing the same small rotation of clothes. But the woman who once needed an inventory list to track her belongings can hardly remember what remains packed away.
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