As I stare at my overflowing stacks of Architectural Digest and Elle Decor, I can almost hear Marie Kondo gently whispering, “Does this bring you joy?”

Home décor is my obsession. Appreciating stunning interior design and maintaining my home like it’s my job? Yes, please. Minimalism? Not so much. I can’t resist a good flea market or antique mall, and I get weak in the knees for table linens, vintage vases, and any antique wooden box that still has its key.

I’m not saying Marie Kondo wasn’t onto something with her signature “spark joy” mantra or those demanding decluttering schedules. But after moving more than 30 times—across four countries and eight states, upsizing, downsizing, and everything in between—I’ve learned a thing or two about decluttering. I’m the queen of storage units and the master of junk drawers. So, when Marie’s method took the world by storm, I wasn’t buying it.

My Mom Was a Hoarder: Why That Matters

As the child of a hoarder, my relationship with stuff is complicated. The house I grew up in was so cluttered; it was embarrassing. My mom’s TJ Maxx shopping sprees filled our home with bed sheet sets, dishes, wrapping paper, and linens—even “borrowed” TJ Maxx small shopping baskets. For her, it wasn’t about need but the thrill of acquiring. After living in a space with piles of stuff covering every inch of table tops and floors, I vowed that my house would never look this way. Even Marie Kondo would’ve backed out of my childhood home in disbelief and defeat. 

By my mid-30s, I realized how much my mom’s habits had influenced my own thoughts on possessions. Hoarding wasn’t my problem, thank goodness. It was the opposite: an eagerness — almost delight —  to unload, give-away, or toss, just about anything. With a young family and an international move in front of me, I certainly wasn’t about to reduce my life to some minimalist ideal. But I sure as hell needed a practical approach. Since I love interior design and beautiful things, discipline was key. I learned to purchase home décor with intention, asking: does it fit my style, is it functional, and is it the best quality I can afford? (Clothing and holiday décor took a bit longer to get under control.) For the last 30 years, this formula has served me well. 

Decluttering In Your 60’s: The Transition Trap of What to Do with a Lifetime of Stuff

Marie’s method is well-known: hold an object, ask if it sparks joy, and then decide whether to toss or keep it. I call BS. Marie didn’t go far enough. Decluttering in your 60s hits differently. It’s rarely about joy; it’s about transition, loss, and even financial strain. If only it were as simple as sparking joy. The reality is, decluttering at this stage becomes necessary, sometimes essential, not by choice but because life forces it on you.

For those of us who’ve experienced significant life transitions—moving, downsizing after retirement, or cleaning out after the loss of a loved one—our stuff can be a source of comfort and tremendous stress. That old photo album or piece of furniture may stir far more than joy; it can bring memories, emotions, and tough decisions.

When I lost my mom, I inherited more than dishes and linens. I inherited her emotional attachment to certain things. Sifting through it all was overwhelming, even for someone not sentimental. Decluttering is never a one-size-fits-all solution. We hold onto things that represent chapters of our lives, chapters we may not be ready to close. And when our daily routines shift in significant ways, our systems need to evolve to support the new chapter.

Can We Stop the Decluttering Guilt?

Repeat after me: It’s okay to keep the things you love guilt-free. You don’t need to be a minimalist. Focus on organization along with decluttering. It’s no easy task—it takes courage, time, and a hefty dose of grace. It’s OK to feel sadness, but staying in that that dark place too long only stalls the process of moving forward. The trick is knowing when to declutter: you must be emotionally ready and physically ready. I highly recommend getting help either from a professional organizer or an able family member and having smart storage solutions ready and available. If I have the right place for something, it stays. Sure, I occasionally slip up and buy what I call “happy crap,” but I don’t keep those things out of guilt or compulsion. More importantly, I don’t toss something just because I’m not feeling joy in that moment. And let’s be real—who doesn’t have a junk drawer (or three)? Decluttering means keeping what makes your home feel like home.

How to Keep the Things That Matter (Without Losing Your Mind)

So, where does that leave us?
We can’t keep everything. Here are a few tips I’ve found helpful:

• Create “Memory Corners”: Designate areas of your home for sentimental items, like a loved one’s chair or a grandchild’s toy bin; showcase them without letting them overtake your space.

• Rotate Keepsakes: Don’t display every family photo at once. Rotate pictures and keepsakes seasonally to keep things fresh. Group small keepsakes in decorative jars or trays for a “collected” look.

• Curate Instead of Declutter: Think of it as curating. Keep the things that serve a purpose or evoke meaningful memories. Let go of what no longer serves you.

• Involve Loved Ones: When letting go of family items, involve your children, grandchildren, or other relatives. It can be a meaningful way to pass on pieces that will continue to be cherished.

• Purchase New Items with Intent: Remember: whatever you buy now, will one day become part of someone else’s responsibility.

• Use Storage Units Temporarily: Storage units can be helpful for downsizing or moving, but don’t let them become permanent. Unload them ASAP. You don’t want your stuff to end up on an episode of Storage Wars.

Our Obsession with Stuff: A Reflection of Us

As a culture, we’re obsessed with stuff. We’re consumers, collectors, and sometimes even hoarders. Our belongings represent who we are. Whether it’s a new pair of shoes or a perfectly curated set of wine glasses, we use objects to express our identities. But when does that obsession become a burden?

For many of us over 60, the challenge isn’t just deciding what to keep or toss—it’s about understanding our relationship with our stuff. Are we holding onto things because they define us? Or because they hold real value? This is where Marie’s method fails us.

It’s time to redefine joy. It’s not about what you throw away; it’s about what you keep.

Have you ever tried the “spark joy” method?

How do you balance holding onto sentimental items with keeping your space organized?

What’s the most challenging part of deciding what to keep and what to let go of?