Packing for Freedom: The Chaos of Pre-Decluttering for Full-Time Family Travel

Somewhere between dragging a human-sized caterpillar body pillow out of the office closet (why do we still have this?) and realizing we own four “fancy” plates reserved exclusively for guests who never actually come over, it hit me: we have way too much stuff, and it’s not coming with us. The time to declutter for full-time family travel has arrived. My husband Andrew, a minimalist with the soul of a monk, has been gently suggesting this for, oh… the entire time we’ve known each other. And now? Yeah. I’m finally on board. Sort of.

The actual human-sized caterpillar body pillow.

We’re preparing to leave the U.S. and travel full-time as a family. The plan is simple (in theory): everything we keep must fit into one suitcase per person. That’s it. The rest? Sold, donated, or released back into the wilds of Facebook Marketplace.

I expected this phase to be exciting, a little freeing, a little therapeutic. What I didn’t expect was the emotional rollercoaster that is pre-decluttering. Buckle up, because this ride includes guilt, nostalgia, an alarming number of mismatched toddler socks, and maybe a tearful goodbye to an espresso machine I religiously use three times a day since pre-pandemic times.

The Emotional Rollercoaster of Letting Go

Let’s talk about the weird things I struggled to part with while decluttering for full-time family travel:

• Craft supplies for 14 hobbies I never started (but totally would’ve).

• Plants I rescued from near-death, now basically my leafy children.

• A 3-in-1 air fryer/slow cooker/pressure cooker and, yes, that espresso machine that already came up.

• Half my closet, including outfits for lives I do not lead.

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But the real kicker has been Emily’s stuff. Tiny shoes, board books with chewed corners, outfits she wore for 20 minutes before outgrowing them and so many toys, big and small, around which we created so many beautiful memories together. I know we’re not supposed to hold onto everything, but how do you Marie Kondo a baby blanket that made it through midnight fevers and early morning snuggles?

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Spoiler alert: You don’t. You take a photo, cry into your coffee, and keep moving.

My Process (Also Known as “Mildly Controlled Chaos”)

Am I using a method? Sort of. I’ve got:

• A “keep” pile, aka: things that definitely spark joy and fit in a suitcase.

• A “donate/sell” pile, aka: Facebook Marketplace’s new best friend.

• A “what was I thinking” pile, aka: goodbye beaded crop top from my pre-mom phase.

My approach to decluttering for full time family travel has been sequential, room by room… ish. Some days I’m a minimalist ninja, ruthlessly tossing things into donation bags. Other days, I spend 30 minutes just holding a mug, questioning why we own 12 mugs, we are only 3 people, and I only ever use the comically oversized one that can hold soup, coffee, and regret, all at once.

The Mindset Shifts Along the Way

Here’s what I’ve realized: I’m not just decluttering my house. I’m decluttering who I thought I needed to be. The one who was prepared for every birthday party, every “just in case,” every “maybe someday.”

I’m letting go of that version of myself- the one who equated comfort with accumulation.

Now? I’m craving space. Breathing room. Simplicity. Not just in our closets, but in our schedule, our mindset, our life.

We’re choosing slow, meaningful living over full drawers and fast routines. This is where Sloth Mode Travel truly begins.

What’s Next: The Final Round

We’re still in the “pre” stage since there’s a lot more to go. But each drawer we empty, each bag we donate, brings us closer to our new life.

Next up? A packing trial run. We’re going to try fitting our chosen things into our actual suitcases. Will it all fit? Will I weep over a pair of boots? Will Emily try to stow away 37 stuffed animals?

We’ll find out. And I’ll share it all.

Your Turn: Let’s Declutter Together

If you had to fit your life into one suitcase… what would you take?

Tell me in the comments, DM me on Instagram, or whisper it to your slow cooker before you donate it. I need the solidarity.