At some point in your tidying process, you’ll likely encounter things that just are just not fun to part with.
I saw these materials as part of my identity. Irreplaceable, no less. But it was time for them to go.
Keeping the engineering drawings served no purpose—at least not one that a photo of them can’t also serve. I merely felt attached to them, to that part of my history. I had received achievement and competition awards from drafting, and one of my high school love notes implies that I was considering lying about where I was going so I could attend a drafting competition. Really? What an odd thing to need to sneak off to. [Sidenote: the love notes were also on my decluttering list. I read each one before it hit the shredder, and man was that a strange trip down memory lane!] I never seriously considered pursuing anything to do with engineering as a career, that I recall. I started classes in college, but they were a step backward in skill level and didn’t seem worth my time to go through required levels. Probably there was more to it that I have long since forgotten, but that’s the extent of my memory: that I merely enjoyed the logic puzzle aspect that class projects brought.
The rest of it—the building resources—had a purpose, and a lot of time investment. As I mention, I had already cut back on everything by an entire storage bin. But a purpose that may never be fulfilled, and I’ve held onto them for how long, just in case? My minimalism journey is considerably more important. And of course, no piece of paper should be elevated so high as to hold my identity. This is certainly not the first, nor will it be the last, time I part with something that feels like an extension of me.