Picture this: you’re standing in your garage, balancing on a wobbly box of holiday decorations from 1997, staring at a pile of stuff you haven’t touched in years. Somewhere in that mountain of mystery lies your old bread maker, your high school yearbooks, and a sweater from your aunt that still has the tags. You take a deep breath, ready to declutter, and then it hits you…
“But what if I need it someday?”
And just like that, the whole operation stalls out. Sound familiar?
You’re not alone. As a professional declutterer, I’ve heard every excuse under the sun—and they all sound completely reasonable in the moment. But here’s the truth: most of them are myths. Sneaky little beliefs that keep you stuck, buried under stuff, and paralyzed by indecision.
So let’s talk about the biggest decluttering myths out there, and kick them to the curb where they belong. Ready?
Myth #1: I might need it someday
This is the classic. The MVP of myths. The thing is, “someday” rarely comes. And if it does, chances are you’ve either forgotten you had it or it’s no longer what you need. Don’t let this emotional support clutter hold you back!
Truth: The likelihood of you ever using that item is close to zero. Instead of hanging onto every single thing you think you may need, create a “just-in-case” box. Label it with today’s date. If you haven’t reached into it in six months, you really didn’t need it. Time to let it go.
Myth #2: But it was a gift
Ah, the guilt trip. You’re not keeping the item– you’re keeping the peace between the person who got it. But guess what? The love, the thoughtfulness, the relationship that you’re trying to safeguard? That all stays, even if the weird decorative bowl does not. Plus, it’s okay to decline a gift.
Truth: Throwing out the item will not throw out the friendship. You can thank the item mentally– maybe take a photo if that helps– then set it free. You don’t owe your space to someone else’s shopping choice.
Myth #3: I don’t have time to declutter
It might feel as though you have so much clutter that it’ll take days, weeks, maybe even months to tackle it all. But even decluttering for a few minutes a day is better than not doing it at all.
Truth: You don’t need a free weekend and a color-coded spreadsheet. You just need five minutes– then maybe five more. Try the “one drawer a day” method. Or declutter one category—just shoes, just coffee mugs, just cords (why do we all have so many cords?!). Small steps lead to big shifts.
Myth #4: It’s too overwhelming—I don’t know where to start
Perfectionism loves to hang out with procrastination. Waiting for the “perfect starting point” just keeps you stuck.
Truth: Start anywhere. One shelf. One sock drawer. One handbag. Progress over perfection– every time.
Myth #5: It’s not clutter if it’s organized
You bought all the bins, labeled them with your fancy label maker, and stacked them neatly in your garage. But if they’re filled with stuff you don’t use or love… yeah, it’s still clutter.
Truth: Don’t confuse storage with purpose. Organized clutter is still clutter.
Myth #6: I spent good money on it
Oof. This one cuts deep. The financial guilt is real, but keeping it won’t bring that money back. Take the lesson and remember that shopping isn’t a hobby!
Truth: Let it go. And maybe next time, think twice before hitting “add to cart”.
Myth #7: I’ll sell it someday
Okay, but… will you really? If it’s been sitting in your “to sell” pile since 2012, it’s time to reevaluate.
Truth: Selling takes time, effort, and energy. If you’re not actually doing it, that item is just clutter in costume.
Myth #8: Decluttering means getting rid of everything
Let me say it loud enough for the people in the back: Decluttering is not about deprivation. It’s not about living in a white box with only one chair and a plant named Steve.
Truth: It’s about keeping what serves you now. What you use, love, and need. That’s it. You get to decide.
Decluttering isn’t about being ruthless—it’s about being real with yourself. These myths feel safe, but they keep you in limbo. You deserve a home that reflects who you are today—not who you were, or who you’re afraid you might need to be someday.
So let this be your permission slip to let go. Start small. Start imperfectly. But whatever you do—just start.
