Purging, good for the soul AND heart? New staff writer Rachel Brownjohn gives a good argument for this in her first post for the blog. Enjoy and if you can relate, comment on the post!
Purging is the best. Like, the BEST.
And no, not the kind you’re thinking.
The purging that comes from cleaning out your closet, or finally sorting through the contents of your neglected refrigerator, or organizing your pencil
bag (you guys remember elementary school), or my FAVORITE, getting rid of the artifacts of a failed relationship.
When I was in second grade my mom and I lived in a duplex with another single mom/kid super duo. That mom dated…. All the time. And she was a regular pro at getting rid of ex’s stuff. She would regularly (about once every 2 months) dispel a box of items, which presumably belonged to the most recent former beaux, from her second story window and onto her side of the lawn. Sometimes those clothes would stay there for a few days. Sometimes they would be gone by the morning. My favorite time, they were gathered by an underwear clad fellow with a cardboard box as he alternatingly offered beseeching apologies and creative slights.
She was a rock star of purging.
I’ve never reached her level of commitment when it comes to ex-boyfriend paraphernalia removal. I tend to keep my irrational actions isolated to late night text messages or boy bashing nights with my girlfriends. When it comes to returning items I’m like Martha Stewart. I package their items attractively and smelling fresh and clean!
It’s a ritual: Break up. Sort out a time to return items, and go to TOWN! Laundering and folding neatly, being very careful to ensure that all items are returned in PEAK condition, and (depending on the extent of our relationship and the method of return) possibly writing a well thought out note to seem extra graceful. Or dramatic. Depends on the occasion (Once my note read, “I’m sorry, I just can’t keep them, they deserve to be loved”…. It was in reference to sweatshirts, DRAMA!).
Do you remember the musical South Pacific? Or more specifically that catchy old tune that went, “I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair, and send him on his way!”. This is the break up mantra I follow, and for me, those neatly packed boxes of laundered clothes are my shampoo and water. “I’m gonna pack that box all full of his shirts, and send him on his way!.”
Does getting rid of their stuff erase the heartache? No. Does it erase the memories we shared together? Of course not. But it’s starting fresh, cleaning out the closet, and making room for a new tooth-brush and pair of athletic shorts, a new too-big-T-shirt to fall asleep in, and a new hand to hold.
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