When Less is More: Choosing a Simpler Lifestyle

Part 3: How to declutter when you’re married to a Saver

When we first married, I tried to convince my husband Len that it was time to say goodbye to his high school wardrobe—yes, the legendary plaids, polyester leisure suits, and collars so wide you could park a bus on them. They’d found a permanent home in his closet for twenty-some years and weren’t about to relinquish their cozy little nest.

Until his new bride moved in.

The tiny closet in our tiny house couldn’t accommodate all of our clothes, let alone relics from the 1970s. Something had to give.

At first, Len suggested we box them up and store them somewhere (mind you, that house was all of 800-square feet). I urged him to get rid of them. Nope. He wasn’t about to part with them.

As we discussed the matter, it became clear to me that we were speaking different languages.

In his mind, ‘get rid of’ meant tossing. He genuinely didn’t want to waste clothes that were still in good condition.

In my mind, I was thinking of rehoming the clothes by donating them to a homeless shelter.

Once I clarified my intent—my meaning behind the words ‘get rid of’—then he was instantly on board. Nothing was lost, nothing wasted, and a peaceful marriage ensued.

Which brings us to step one: communication. Share your thoughts, explain your intent for decluttering. Ensure that you are both speaking the same language.

It is equally important to consider your spouse’s past or family history. Len is a saver, but that trait was passed down through several generations. His grandparents—on both sides—lived through the Great Depression. They mastered the art of repurposing everything from tins of nails (he told me a story about his grandfather straightening bent nails for reuse) to fabric and buttons.

This legacy passed to his parents and now manifests as his fondness for keeping things ‘just in case.’ It also influences how he views ‘stuff.’

There is much to be said about repurposing (Len saves the clips from clothes hangers to use as bag clips—smart!). Think of all the landfills that would be spared this current trend of tossing and replacing, stuff that is casually discarded without thought to the environment.

Another salient point is to lead by example, meaning I need to walk the talk before I can urge my husband to part ways with some of his ‘stuff.’

So, channeling my inner Marie Kondo, I tackled the bookshelves. That’s the one area where the difference between good intentions and practicing what I preach is most often tested.

With a fresh determination to stand by my words—and heavy sighs mixed with deep breathing into a paper sack—I took on the challenge.

 In the process, I discovered there are three categories of books: those you read once, those that speak to you, and those you know you will read over and over (the ones with broken spines, creased pages, and notes in the margins).

Interestingly enough, I ended up with several stacks of the read-once variety. A friend who leads a homeschooling coop got first dibs, then my sister who started a ministry to third-world families called Books Without Borders. Actually, she raided my bookshelves as well—with my permission and my blessing—and drove home with a car full of books that will end up in the hands of children around the world who wouldn’t otherwise have books to read in English (my siblings and I grew up in France, so books written in English were such a treat for us!)

Finally, what was left of the ‘read once’ books, I gifted to a Community Outreach Ministry, hopefully to be read by avid readers rather than end up as coasters.

The ones that spoke to me I put in a “maybe” pile and revisited them a month later. Many of them found a new home at the local library. And should a sudden yearning to reread one of them strike me in the middle of the night, I know where to find it come morning.

What is left is a curated collection of books that are meaningful to me. Now our library/den is a peaceful oasis, perfect for escaping to Narnia or solving mysteries with Sherlock Holmes from the comfort of home.

Finally, be willing to compromise. Sometimes there’s a deep, sentimental reason someone can’t let go of a particular “treasure.” When you approach it with compassion (and maybe a touch of humor), the whole decluttering adventure becomes a little softer and a lot more fun.

In the end, decluttering with a saver isn’t just about tidying up—it’s about understanding each other, sharing a few laughs, and maybe even finding contentment in that happy place of mutual understanding and satisfaction. It’s about redefining ‘home’.