When Too Many Things Made My Home Feel Heavy
1. The Weight I Didn’t See
I used to think clutter was just visual — a few extra things on shelves, clothes I didn’t wear, duplicates “just in case.”
But one afternoon, while cleaning my Destin home top to bottom, I realized the real weight wasn’t on the furniture — it was in the air.
Every time I started a deep clean, I was moving the same objects again and again: baskets, trays, decorations, souvenirs, tools I didn’t use.
Each one stole minutes, energy, and focus.
By the time I reached the floors, I was already tired.
That’s when it hit me: my cleaning problem wasn’t dirt — it was too many things.
2. The Reality Check
I decided to count.
It took me 15 minutes just to move everything off the kitchen counters before wiping them.
12 minutes to clear the bathroom shelves.
And about 20 minutes to pick up random items from tables and floors in the living room.
That’s nearly 50 minutes of cleaning nothing — just shifting weight from one surface to another.
When you live in a coastal town like Destin, where humidity attracts dust and moisture faster, every extra item becomes another maintenance point.
3. What I Noticed Once I Started Paying Attention
Here’s what I began to see:
- Decor collects salt film. Even when you don’t notice it, coastal air leaves residue on every object.
- Open shelving looks airy but traps humidity. More items = less circulation.
- “Spare” linens and towels — if you don’t use them monthly, they start to smell.
- Drawers multiply junk invisibly. Out of sight doesn’t mean out of maintenance.
It wasn’t mess. It was load.
And the more I cleaned, the clearer it became — I was maintaining a museum of things, not a living home.
4. The Breaking Point
The day that changed everything was during a Sharky prep clean for a client’s beach cottage.
We arrived to find a home that looked small but felt enormous — light, open, nothing in excess.
We finished early. No clutter meant no slowdown.
When I came home that evening, my place suddenly felt cramped.
Not dirty. Not disorganized. Just heavy.
So I made a rule:
If it doesn’t make my home easier to clean, it doesn’t belong here.
How I Learned to Declutter Without Losing Comfort
1. Start Small, but Start Today
I didn’t begin with a grand plan — I began with one drawer.
The rule was simple: ten things gone every day.
Not reorganized. Gone.
Day 1 — the junk drawer.
Day 2 — the bathroom shelf.
Day 3 — the hallway closet.
By the end of the first week, I’d removed three garbage bags of things that had nothing to do with living — only with keeping.
That’s how decluttering started working: not as an event, but as a habit.
2. The “Easy Surfaces First” Rule
In Destin’s humidity, every exposed surface collects a film of salt and dust.
So I began where it mattered most: counters, tables, and open shelving.
If an item stayed untouched for two weeks, I asked myself one question:
“Does this make cleaning harder or easier?”
If it added time, I let it go.
One clear countertop instantly cut my weekly cleaning time by 15 minutes.
Less to move = less to wipe = less to stress.
3. The Coastal Logic
Coastal living teaches you something no book will: air is part of your interior.
The more open space you leave, the cleaner the air moves.
When I cleared the entryway — baskets, spare shoes, hooks full of jackets — the airflow changed.
The salt smell faded.
Even the floor dried faster after mopping.
Clutter doesn’t just block your eyes. It blocks your home’s breathing.
4. Room-by-Room System (The Sharky Way)
Sharky’s approach isn’t minimalist for style — it’s functional minimalism.
Here’s how I applied it:
- Kitchen: keep only one set of tools in reach; store extras in a labeled bin.
- Bathroom: limit to essentials; keep surfaces bare for fast wipe-downs.
- Living room: one decorative item per surface max. Rotate, don’t multiply.
- Bedroom: clear under-bed storage every season — humidity builds up even there.
It’s not about less — it’s about manageable.
5. The Emotional Part
The hardest part wasn’t letting go of things.
It was letting go of the illusion that things made my space “mine.”
Once I realized that my home felt more mine when it was lighter, the rest followed easily.
Now, cleaning takes half the time.
Air feels brighter.
And most importantly — I don’t dread maintenance anymore.
6. The Rule That Stuck
If it doesn’t serve a purpose or lift the mood — it leaves.
That’s my Sharky version of minimalism.
Not sterile, not empty — just enough to live and breathe easily.
Because here in Destin, where the air already brings so much,
you don’t need to fill the rest — you just need to make space for it.
Read also: What I Learned from Cleaning Other People’s Homes
