The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo, along with the Netflix series that followed, became a hot topic of conversation earlier this year. Kondo’s method’s central tenet is to ascertain whether an item “sparks joy.” If it doesn’t, it’s clutter that you don’t need. Here’s how to implement Kondo’s organizing techniques in your own house:
1. See Whether It Makes You Happy
Kondo advises going through everything in your house, taking an item in your hand, and asking yourself if it makes you happy. Like your preowned engagement ring, it’s time to part with anything if you don’t feel good about it. You can give it to someone who will value it higher or sell it. This holds true for your clothes in addition to furniture and trinkets.
2. Sort by Category Rather Than Room
Kondo advises classifying everything and sorting through it that way rather than walking through your house room by room. You’ll be able to see everything you have in that grouping with clarity in this method.
3. Folding Vertically
One of Kondo’s more avant-garde thoughts is perhaps the vertical folding technique. You’ll be able to see every article of clothing if you fold and store it upright because nothing will be hidden behind overturning heaps.
4. Spotless Containers
Food, according to Kondo, usually comes in loudly labeled, vibrantly colored cartons when it is purchased. She suggests moving your food to “clean” containers so that your cupboard becomes a peaceful, cozy space rather than a chaotic one.
5. Apparel
According to Kondo, it’s critical to keep track of every item of clothes you wear throughout a given season when keeping it. To avoid buying items you already own, she also suggests pairing up similar-type and colored clothing.
6. Handbags
When it comes to purses, Kondo advises making it a daily habit to empty your luggage. Move the contents to a different box that corresponds to the things you’ll need on a daily basis for your purse. She also suggests keeping the bags inside one another to conserve space and keep the bags from losing their shape.
7. Images
Although it can be difficult to part with photos, according to Kondo, you should only actually save the ones that are incredibly memorable. To find out how Kondo saves and arranges her pictures, go this link.
8. Textbooks
According to Kondo, you ought to divide your book collection into two sections: those you have already read and those you have been meaning to get around to but haven’t yet. The first batch can be donated because they have fulfilled their purpose. It’s likely that you won’t read the second bunch if you haven’t before, and they can also be given. She advises preserving only your all-time favorite books.
9. Work Area
You must have a functional workspace. Eliminate everything from your workstation that does not support the work you are performing because of this. Kondo recommends storing critical documents, etc. in vertical files.
MY HUSBAND LEFT ME AND OUR KIDS FOR HIS MISTRESS – I WAS FURIOUS AND TOOK MY REVENGE.
The bitterness tasted like ash in my mouth. How could he? How could he just walk away, leaving us like discarded toys? Mark, my husband of fifteen years, the man I’d built a life with, had traded us in for a shiny, new model. A twenty-year-old, no less. A coworker. I’d suspected something was off, the late nights, the secretive phone calls, but I’d pushed it aside, trusting him. Foolish me.
The day I caught them, at that cheap motel on the outskirts of town, was seared into my memory. The look on his face, a mixture of guilt and something disturbingly close to relief, still haunted my dreams. He didn’t even try to deny it, just mumbled some pathetic excuse about “finding himself.”
The divorce was a whirlwind of lawyers and paperwork, a cold, clinical process that stripped away the remnants of our life together. He’d agreed to everything, too quickly, too easily. I was left with a pittance, barely enough to cover a few months’ rent.
Then came the real insult. He’d put our marital home, the house where we’d raised our kids, the house filled with memories, up for sale. And he’d listed it for an absurdly inflated price, far exceeding the online valuation used during the financial order. The judge had signed off on it, seemingly oblivious to the glaring discrepancy.
I was left scrambling, barely able to make ends meet, while he was raking in a fortune. Seeing that listing online, the photos of our home, now staged and impersonal, was like a knife to the heart. It was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
But the final straw was when his new fiancée, the mistress, announced on social media that they were buying a “dream home” because they were expecting a baby. A baby! He was building a new life, a new family, while my kids were struggling, while I was drowning in debt. The injustice of it all was suffocating.
I was consumed by rage, a burning desire for revenge. I wanted him to feel the same pain, the same despair, that he’d inflicted on me. I wanted him to understand the consequences of his actions.
It wasn’t until I visited my former mother-in-law, a woman who had always been kind to me, that a plan began to form. She was as devastated by Mark’s actions as I was. We sat in her cozy kitchen, sipping tea, and she told me stories of Mark’s childhood, of his father’s own infidelity, a pattern repeating itself.
Then, she mentioned a small, overlooked detail. A safety deposit box, inherited from Mark’s father, containing… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d always assumed it was just old documents.
The next day, I went to the bank. I’d remembered Mark mentioning the box once, years ago, but he’d dismissed it as unimportant. I presented myself as his legal representative, using a power of attorney document I’d obtained during the divorce proceedings, a document Mark had signed without reading thoroughly.
Inside the box, nestled amongst faded photographs and yellowed letters, was a stock certificate. A substantial amount of shares in a company that had recently skyrocketed in value. Mark, in his haste to leave, had completely forgotten about it.
I sold the shares.
The money, a significant sum, allowed me to pay off my debts, secure a comfortable apartment for myself and the kids, and even put a down payment on a small business.
I didn’t tell Mark. I didn’t gloat. I simply moved on, building a new life for myself and my children. The satisfaction wasn’t in the money, but in the knowledge that I had taken back control, that I had turned his betrayal into my liberation. And maybe, just maybe, he’d learn that some things, like family, are worth more than any fleeting infatuation.
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