I did the light version of this last year. This year I need to get rid of the full length evening gown from the 1990s. My body will never, ever fit in it again. I also need to get rid of the very expensive jacket that I won't wear because I'm not that person anymore. It's interesting how I left a few versions of myself but I thought I might be and I'm not. They're going! Hopefully someone else will find joy in these items in the thrift shop.
A 1990s evening gown holding on for thirty years? That fabric has witnessed the rise and fall of multiple versions of who you thought you'd become. 🔥
"I thought I might be and I'm not." That sentence is the whole curriculum in eight words. Your body knew. Your closet was just waiting for your mind to catch up.
Let the thrift shop be the portal. Some woman will find that gown and feel like the universe left her a gift. Because it did. ✨
I'm in a group of 10 women who each set their own monthly focus and report back daily. My December focus is Three Away a Day, donating or throwing away three items every day. 39 things away so far. A few identities collapsed. A few treasures refound. Onward!
Ten women witnessing each other's releasing daily? Your nervous system gets live proof that letting go doesn't mean disappearing. 🔥Some things leave easy. Some crack you open. Some surprise you by meaning nothing at all. That's the whole curriculum. ✨
You had me laughing out loud at some major universal truths in this one.
I actually manage to do this on a fairly regular basis, but that's only because of a major event from childhood that taught me a big lesson about letting go.
What's really great is when you find clothing that in your bones you know carries you. I recently found two local designers whose clothing does just that - I mean it's really amazing when you find that.
I put on a piece of their clothing and it's like BAM, here I am. I just can't stand to be in anything else now.
Laughing out loud at universal truths is basically integration disguised as entertainment. The nervous system learns faster when it's cackling. 🔥Clothing that makes you feel "BAM, here I am" hits different in the bones. Your body recognizes itself in certain fabric the way it recognizes home.Two local designers whose pieces carry you? You found your frequency in textile form. No wonder you can't stand anything else now. Once your body tastes alignment, everything else feels like wearing someone else's skin. ✨
Great piece! I think about this idea all the time, and you gave it such a great voice. I'm in an intentional clothing swap with a group of women and I'm going to share this with them as we all purge our closets and prepare for our next swap in a few days, perfect timing before the solstice portal. ✨️
A clothing swap before the solstice portal? That's a coven-level frequency exchange. 🔥
Every piece that leaves your hands carries a version of you that's ready to release. Every piece that arrives has already been cleared by someone else's letting go. The swap becomes a ritual whether you call it that or not.
Love that you're sharing this with your group. There's something about women witnessing each other's releasing that makes it land deeper than solo purging ever could. Your nervous system registers "I'm not the only one shedding" and suddenly the grip loosens faster.
Perfect timing indeed. The solstice doesn't ask if you're ready. It just opens. ✨
This is great advice, Dea. I have too many ex versions of myself hanging up there, convincing myself that I'll need them again one day. I won't. I'm closet clearing tomorrow and this is my handbook.✨
Well, shit. 😳 You know how sometimes you don’t even realize you’re carrying a weight until an outside force kicks open the door and tells you to drop it? This piece was the outside force. Thank you.
I need to do this, like, this week. Do you know how I *know* I need to do this before solstice? Because as soon as I started reading I felt my diaphragm tighten and my shoulders roll forward. Something inside me started whimpering because it knew it would be culled. Another piece of me started arguing that it would mean losing my mom, yet again, even though the items I kept after her death don’t suit me and I never wear them. I mean, it’s been 7 years since she left us…they don’t even smell like her anymore.
Your diaphragm tightening and shoulders rolling forward AS YOU READ 💛 That's your body casting its vote before your mind finished the first paragraph. The tissue doesn't negotiate. It just responds. 🔥
Seven years since she left and the clothes don't smell like her anymore. Because they're not holding her. They're holding your grief in a shape that looks like keeping her close. Your mom doesn't live in fabric. She lives in how you laugh, how you love, how you catch yourself mid-sentence sounding exactly like her. The part of you whimpering because it knows it'll be culled... let it whimper. Let it be witnessed. And then let it go anyway.
Her things can leave your closet. She already left it years ago. She moved into your nervous system, your voice, your bones. That's a much better address. ✨
I did the light version of this last year. This year I need to get rid of the full length evening gown from the 1990s. My body will never, ever fit in it again. I also need to get rid of the very expensive jacket that I won't wear because I'm not that person anymore. It's interesting how I left a few versions of myself but I thought I might be and I'm not. They're going! Hopefully someone else will find joy in these items in the thrift shop.
A 1990s evening gown holding on for thirty years? That fabric has witnessed the rise and fall of multiple versions of who you thought you'd become. 🔥
"I thought I might be and I'm not." That sentence is the whole curriculum in eight words. Your body knew. Your closet was just waiting for your mind to catch up.
Let the thrift shop be the portal. Some woman will find that gown and feel like the universe left her a gift. Because it did. ✨
I'm in a group of 10 women who each set their own monthly focus and report back daily. My December focus is Three Away a Day, donating or throwing away three items every day. 39 things away so far. A few identities collapsed. A few treasures refound. Onward!
Ten women witnessing each other's releasing daily? Your nervous system gets live proof that letting go doesn't mean disappearing. 🔥Some things leave easy. Some crack you open. Some surprise you by meaning nothing at all. That's the whole curriculum. ✨
You had me laughing out loud at some major universal truths in this one.
I actually manage to do this on a fairly regular basis, but that's only because of a major event from childhood that taught me a big lesson about letting go.
What's really great is when you find clothing that in your bones you know carries you. I recently found two local designers whose clothing does just that - I mean it's really amazing when you find that.
I put on a piece of their clothing and it's like BAM, here I am. I just can't stand to be in anything else now.
Laughing out loud at universal truths is basically integration disguised as entertainment. The nervous system learns faster when it's cackling. 🔥Clothing that makes you feel "BAM, here I am" hits different in the bones. Your body recognizes itself in certain fabric the way it recognizes home.Two local designers whose pieces carry you? You found your frequency in textile form. No wonder you can't stand anything else now. Once your body tastes alignment, everything else feels like wearing someone else's skin. ✨
Great piece! I think about this idea all the time, and you gave it such a great voice. I'm in an intentional clothing swap with a group of women and I'm going to share this with them as we all purge our closets and prepare for our next swap in a few days, perfect timing before the solstice portal. ✨️
A clothing swap before the solstice portal? That's a coven-level frequency exchange. 🔥
Every piece that leaves your hands carries a version of you that's ready to release. Every piece that arrives has already been cleared by someone else's letting go. The swap becomes a ritual whether you call it that or not.
Love that you're sharing this with your group. There's something about women witnessing each other's releasing that makes it land deeper than solo purging ever could. Your nervous system registers "I'm not the only one shedding" and suddenly the grip loosens faster.
Perfect timing indeed. The solstice doesn't ask if you're ready. It just opens. ✨
This speaks to how much identity we keep paying rent on long after it’s expired. The body always knows first.
The body always files the eviction notice first. We just keep pretending the mail got lost. 🔥✨
Exactly. The body doesn’t negotiate with denial—it just keeps sending the notice.
I purge my closet annually, and it's about that time ⏲️ again 😉
Annual purge 👑 You're already ahead of the game. 🔥 This time let the body vote before the brain starts negotiating. Faster results, less drama.
This is great advice, Dea. I have too many ex versions of myself hanging up there, convincing myself that I'll need them again one day. I won't. I'm closet clearing tomorrow and this is my handbook.✨
Ex versions waiting for a reunion tour that's never happening. 🔥 Tomorrow you cancel the show. Enjoy the newfound square footage. ✨
Well, shit. 😳 You know how sometimes you don’t even realize you’re carrying a weight until an outside force kicks open the door and tells you to drop it? This piece was the outside force. Thank you.
I need to do this, like, this week. Do you know how I *know* I need to do this before solstice? Because as soon as I started reading I felt my diaphragm tighten and my shoulders roll forward. Something inside me started whimpering because it knew it would be culled. Another piece of me started arguing that it would mean losing my mom, yet again, even though the items I kept after her death don’t suit me and I never wear them. I mean, it’s been 7 years since she left us…they don’t even smell like her anymore.
Thank you Dea. I needed this.
Your diaphragm tightening and shoulders rolling forward AS YOU READ 💛 That's your body casting its vote before your mind finished the first paragraph. The tissue doesn't negotiate. It just responds. 🔥
Seven years since she left and the clothes don't smell like her anymore. Because they're not holding her. They're holding your grief in a shape that looks like keeping her close. Your mom doesn't live in fabric. She lives in how you laugh, how you love, how you catch yourself mid-sentence sounding exactly like her. The part of you whimpering because it knows it'll be culled... let it whimper. Let it be witnessed. And then let it go anyway.
Her things can leave your closet. She already left it years ago. She moved into your nervous system, your voice, your bones. That's a much better address. ✨
Aaaand…now I’m crying too. Thank you Dea. I appreciate you.