finally started on the purge of marriage memorabilia that’s been sitting in my spare bedroom for years now, gathering dust. I’ve been avoiding it, in part because I really hate to clean, but mostly because it’s 95% stuff I gave to ex and well, I just didn’t want to face the me I was back then.
As I thought in the beginning of my avoidance of cleaning out these boxes, the stupid me.
But really, it was the pathetic me.
The young me who didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like.
The needy me.
The me who didn’t recognize her own worth.
The me that’s a part of my past.
The me that helped shape my future.
The me that I no longer am.
I’ve got a overflowing box of things I’m going to burn now. It seems fitting, somehow.