To downsize, by definition, is to make something smaller through the process of elimination. A very simple, uncomplicated definition, indeed. The process for me,  however, was anything but.

Where to?

Before we could even hope to move items out of our house, we had to know where we were going to live, how much space we would have, and what we would need. We shopped around and decided on a 900 square-foot, two bedroom, two bath apartment. 

Why two bedrooms? Quite honestly, because down-sizing is hard, and I struggled to go “all in.” Period. I felt I needed a certain amount of space to be me – do teacher things, work on my hobbies, cook, relax, etc. I now know better. Hubby went along because he loves me, and he knew I’d have to take baby steps.

Sell, sell, sell…

We put our house on the market and began selling our belongings. Talk about a Herculean task! You really don’t know how much you have until you try to part with it. 

At first, I found myself standing in the middle of each room and, rather than sorting and boxing, I began reminiscing about Every. Single. Item. Memories poured from my mind like water through a sieve. How could I possibly part with all of these precious moments and treasures from my life? Of course, I also ran across countless items for which there was no apparent purpose, no sentimental connection, no reason for existence in my emporium of curiosities.

It dawned on me then that I was struggling with the things that would never fit in our apartment, much less our RV – old photos and greeting cards, letters and homemade gifts my students had given me over the years, our children’s report cards and crayon scribbles, knick-knacks and figurines, and shelves upon shelves of mugs from our travels. I took out a pencil and paper, and I took a deep breath. 

Determining absolute need

I created a must-have list of items for the apartment to cover day-to-day functions – kitchen and bath items, linens, work-related tools and gadgets. I measured out the new bedroom closet in the apartment (less than half the size of the closet in our house) and determined my allowable spatial limit (I’m actually pretty good at sharing). Finally, I took a copy of the apartment floor plan and mapped out which pieces of furniture and wall decor would fit and where they would be placed. 

Once I had a visual image of the placement and storage of our belongings, I created my categories: 

  1. Apartment/RV Must-Haves
  2. Treasured Items for Storage
  3. Garage/Online Sale Items
  4. Donation
  5. Trash

Hubby did the same, and we conferred on the large items. Admittedly, moving into an apartment meant that we would keep some items temporarily – living and bedroom items, television(s), a desk and counter stools, etc. – and we would find ourselves “downsizing” yet again. Illogical as it sounds now, it was what I needed at the time. 

And, go!

While hubby began listing furniture and other large items on online markets like Facebook and Next Door and made arrangements for our first of three garage sales, I tackled the smaller items. I started with the closet. 

Taking stock of the amount of clothing I maintained versus what I actually wore on a regular basis, I started pulling items off hangers and placing them in the donation box. In addition, I marked the upper and lower hanging rods in the house closet to match the measurements in the apartment closet, making sure not to keep anything that would exceed my allotment. My box quickly began to fill…and multiply. 

I moved from closet to kitchen, much in the same manner, my father’s voice swirling in my head, “My goodness! Why do you have five of everything?! You only have two hands!” Though I had laughed it off at the time, he was right. I didn’t need five spatulas – or five of anything for that matter. Clearing out the kitchen suddenly became easy.

Hubby and I posted online pictures of our excess items (and more than a few questionably retained ones) for friends and family to claim. “It’s yours if you come get it, or we can make shipping arrangements,” my husband posted. Offers started coming in.

Meanwhile, online and garage sales went well as hubby mastered the art of “bundling” items and held fast to his cash-and-carry policy. When we weren’t busy working our full-time jobs, we were packing, tossing, donating, or showing and selling our house and its wares. It was exhausting, yet oddly liberating. 

The week before we closed the deal – and the door – on our house, we rented a 10×10 storage unit for our hard-to-part-with items, moved only previously agreed-upon items into the apartment, and hired a young, down-on-their-luck couple to haul off the rest and prep the house for walk-through.

Two years later…

With our RV purchased and broken in, but in storage the majority of the time, hubby and I began discussing “when.” When are we retiring? When should we go full-time? When should we start the next phase of downsizing (more baby steps)? With our lease renewal date a few months away, we decided…now is the time. 

Once again, we found ourselves sorting, packing, selling, donating…emptying out the place for our stuff. Decidedly easier than the first time, we had little trouble unloading the items we had brought from the house…plus, disturbingly, a little more. 

We invited potential buyers into our apartment to view our belongings. Again, hubby used his incredible skills to package bundles of furniture and accessories. In three showings, our apartment was nearly empty. What was left, went to a school-wide garage sale and to a buddy of mine who helped us clean out the odds and ends.

So, what did we keep, and where?

Determined not to fill every available space in the RV, we kept only what was relative to camping and full-time living. I, of course, brought a handful of decorative items to make our rig feel like home. We still maintained the 10×10 storage unit and briefly entertained keeping it. One day, however, we received a call that our unit had been ransacked.

Heartbroken, we cleaned out the unit, repacked our most treasured items, and drove them to my brother’s house for safekeeping. The rest (once and for all) was sold, donated, or given away. In all, we stored five plastic tubs, three small antique items, and four prints in my brother’s garage – the sum total of our existence.

And, in the end…

Downsizing, for me, was a lesson in humility and appreciation. Like a security blanket, my possessions surrounded me, providing me with warmth. Some were truly treasures – gifts and mementos from my deceased parents, for example – others were replaceable or easily stored in a much more practical (usually digital) form. Though overwhelmingly difficult at first, eliminating the excess was not impossible. I came to the conclusion that there were very few items with which I could not part. There were very few items I missed, or even remembered, once they were out of sight. In the end, all that I cared to remember fit in a space smaller than our bathroom.