Decluttering Sentimental Items: A Reminder to Let Go

Last week I experienced a visceral reminder of why decluttering sentimental items is often difficult.

Now, I’ve decluttered many sentimental items in my six-year minimalist journey. During our first year of decluttering, I whittled down a room of boxes to just one basket of sentimental stuff. 

I’d consider my “decluttering muscles” strong—there’s not much I’m opposed to letting go of. 

So last week, when our highchair of 11 years finally broke, I assumed that pitching it would be no problem. It was beyond fixing (note: 7-year-olds should not climb on old highchairs), so I began disassembling the chair. The pieces that could be recycled, went in one pile while pieces that could only be trashed went in the other. 

But as I placed each piece in its designated pile, I was blind-sided by a rush of moments—precious memories—that I hadn’t considered in a while. It felt as though I had unearthed an old photo album, previously hidden away in my mind.

Handling the demolished chair evoked these past mental images.

I placed the highchair’s plastic tray in the recycle pile, but all I saw was baby Emelia elbow-deep in strawberry frosting, playing with a smash cake on her first birthday. Her big brown eyes filled with delight as she took an open-mouthed faceplant into the pink dessert. The room erupted in laughter. 

Why had this memory just surfaced? Was I losing it by recycling this tray? I felt unsettled.

I began unsnapping the cloth seat, prying the metal pieces apart, but all I saw was baby Eva, perched in the chair at age 10 months, and me, determined to teach her to understand Spanish. “¿Dónde está la bañera?” I’d asked. She’d turned to her right and looked directly at her plastic baby tub in the corner. I’d felt proud and amazed.

I sat there, reliving the memory, feeling proud and sad all at once. Why am I remembering this now?

I took a deep breath, grabbed the screwdriver, and moved on to removing the plastic footrest. But all I saw was baby Elena, sitting in the highchair, having just learned the word ball. Overgeneralizing, she decided her round belly was also a ball, patted it with her chubby hands and labeled it “ba,” emphatically.

I couldn’t escape the memories.

They arose with waves of emotion. I thought this was going to be easy—it felt anything but that. 

Sighing, I scooped up the pieces from the recyclable pile and headed to the bin in our garage. I reached for its yellow lid, but all I could see was baby Ethan, our summer baby, perched in the chair covered with watermelon juice and bits of red pulp. He slapped his hands happily in the sticky mess while flashing an ear-to-ear grin.

I wanted to keep these memories—they were important and I hadn’t thought of them in years. Was I erasing them if I let go of the highchair? Was this physical decluttering a clearing out of my memory banks too? For some reason, it felt like the answer was yes.

For a minute I considered keeping parts of the chair for sentimental reasons. It felt like the right thing to do.

Rationally, I knew it wasn’t.

I didn’t need to hold onto that chair to preserve my memories. And if you’re holding onto items you don’t really want to keep simply because of their sentimental value, then I want to tell you this… 

You can let them go, too.

Because here’s the truth: truly precious memories never dissipate, even when you discard the possessions associated with them. 

Parting with sentimental items can feel painful—­you fear losing an important part of your past and the associated memories.

But our memories are held within us. Not within our stuff. I could bring up those memories anytime I wanted. I had photos of each of those moments that could help me recall them and they were alive—within me. Pitching a broken chair couldn’t change that. 

The past is important—it tells our story and can bring us joy. 

But holding on to too many items from past stages of life can keep you from living fully in the present. And the present is the only place life is happening—now.

Our possessions and living spaces should support the person we are becoming now, not the person we used to be. 

If you’re feeling weighed down by your stuff, now is the time to start decluttering sentimental items. Feel the feelings that arise as you handle each emotion-laden item, and if it’s not an absolute favorite, give yourself permission to finally let it go.

In my experience, decluttering sentimental items is worth the effort.

Decluttering sentimental items that feel like a part of you won’t erase memories or change who you are, but instead will make space for you to grow into who God’s calling you to become.

Here’s to living present, abundant lives, not lives tethered to the past and weighed down by our stuff. 

For practical tips to help you let go of sentimental items, check out chapter 12 of my new book Declutter Your Heart and Your Home: How a Minimalist Life Yields Maximum Joy.

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Julia Ubbenga is a freelance journalist. Her online projects on minimalism, simplicity, and intentional living have reached over 50 million people worldwide. Julia also practices what she preaches in her Kansas City home where she lives with her husband and their five children. You can also find her on Instagram and Facebook.