Marie Kondo changed my life. Then everything fell apart.
When a wardrobe edit becomes a seismic shift.
I’ve never been a tidy person.
Yet, in the autumn of 2022 (a few months before my 30th birthday) I became aware of a steadily rising intolerance for any and all mess.
I was living alone in a pretty, 1930’s one-bedder by Sydney Harbour. It had shiny wooden floorboards, a roomy kitchen, and overlooked a beautiful park. It was the nicest apartment I’d ever lived in…and it was almost always in a state of turmoil.
This, I reasoned with myself, was due to my busy work life as a high school teacher.
I’d leave at 7AM and return at 4PM, mentally and physically exhausted from my time in the classroom. My afternoon routine was nap, cook dinner, eat, watch Netflix, sleep.
“One day” I’d get that work/life balance right. “One day” I’d get into a clean-and-tidy routine. “One day” I’d have a home that felt peaceful 24/7.
“One day” was taking its time arriving.
Clothes eventually made their way into the washing machine, but spent most of their time outside of that on the floor.
My kitchen table (i.e. “home desk”) was constantly piled with so many books and papers that I never used it.
The horror that was my wardrobe top shelf became a never-to-be-looked-at dumping ground.
And quite suddenly, one May morning…I’d had enough.
But this was not my first brush with Marie Kondo.
As a messy teenager, vaguely disturbed by my inability to let go of, well, anything, I read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and got as far as the clothes category.
After that, it all felt too hard.
Letting go of things made my gut twist — and my mother thought I was being wasteful.
So the mess returned, again and again.
This time, in my own space, I gritted my teeth and stuck to the rules.
Every item of clothing dumped on the bed. Every book hauled off my bookshelf. Every piece of paper rounded up and put in a pile for sorting.
I followed every category in perfect order. And I didn’t stop until I was done.
After the first day, I was so exhausted I didn’t know if I could continue.
On the second evening, I stayed with my boyfriend because there was no room to move —much less sleep — at my place.
On the third day, I felt physically ill at the sight of the quickly multiplying bags of donations and rubbish that surrounded me. I couldn’t stomach food until I’d got rid of them all.
By the end of a week, I was done.
In total, I ousted thirteen bags of stuff from my one-bedroom apartment.
And I felt about 100kgs lighter.
Not just because my apartment finally looked styled, peaceful and…me. But because in the end, of course, it wasn’t about the stuff at all. It was about my ability to let go.
As Marie herself tells us, the categories are ordered in such a way that we can attune ourselves slowly to what really “sparks joy”.
A skeptic at first, I soon discovered that while tidying was a slow and agonising process for the first couple of days, by the third I couldn’t get rid of things fast enough. My fingertips only had to brush something to know whether I wanted it in my home or not.
There was no second-guessing, no deliberating. Just an empowered “yes” or “no” for each item in my path.
Finally left with only “yes” items around me, the peace and satisfaction was immeasurable.
This IS magic! I thought.
And then…it started happening outside my home.
At first, I noticed that my purchasing decisions were easier: “Do I really want this in my home? Can I see where I would keep it? Would I use it all the time? Would I love it?”. If the answer was “no” or “maybe”, I left it on the shelf.
But in truth, the Kondo effect went way beyond material possessions.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, my relationships were thrown into stark relief against the uncluttered space I’d created.
The more in tune I was with what I wanted, the more in tune I became with what I didn’t want.
Some relationships changed for the better, strengthened by the loss of baggage.
Others felt shaken, frightened by my new independence from empty attachments.
Still others, including a ten-year friendship, went up in flames.
It’s been just over two years since I tidied.
Since then, I’ve travelled overseas, got engaged, and moved in with my fiance.
And I know what you’re waiting to hear…have I relapsed?
This was all my mess-obsessed-self would have wanted to know two years ago.
How wildly she missed the point.
The truth is, our apartment is still messy sometimes. We both hate folding laundry. We both leave a lot of books lying around. And my desk is rarely tidy.
But when we do need to tame the mess, everything has a place. And start to finish, tidying only takes about 10 minutes.
It’s light. Easy. Quick.
It’s also one of the least surprising side-effects of my tidying journey.
The real transformation was that, almost against my will, I learned to let go of physical possessions — and in so doing, learned to trust myself and what I want for my life.
That’s some life-changing magic all right.