Scope Creep in My Closet: What Letting Go Taught Me About The Next Chapter

Gen-Xer here. 👋🏽 I still remember my Walkman cassette playlists. These days, I can't tell you where half my old life went and I'm okay with that.

I'm seeing a lot of posts from women my age, entering their next chapter, most excited for what's on the horizon and I decided to chime in. I think we Gen X women are experiencing some kind of a renaissance that our own mothers weren't given the opportunity to experience.

Those early years we spent fending for ourselves, disappearing from the house for hours on end, making TV dinners after school to tide us over til our parents came home… we just had to figure it all out on our own. Little did I know that fierce independence and tenacity would propel my career forward.

On the other side, some of us find that independent streak has soaked right down to the bone, and now we're learning how to accept assistance with grace and appreciation.

As a teenager, I bought my first portable cassette player (aka Walkman) and took it everywhere. I listened to everything from Madonna and Prince, to Guns N' Roses and The Cult (hey, you couldn't put me in a box, still can't). When I started post-secondary, I treated myself to a sleek new model. That thing went everywhere (in my backpack) and held the soundtrack to my life. Until the day I forgot it in my locker at the gym. I cried for a week. Now I have over a million songs on my PHONE. 16-year-old me would have thought that was crazy. But that would be just the beginning… oh, the changes she'd see.

About 12 years ago, I chose not to chemically straighten my hair anymore. Then during the pandemic lockdowns, I decided to... Uh, let's just be honest, I was forced into deciding between colouring my own hair (at my own risk) or embracing what was naturally growing out of my head. I chose the latter, and now my hair is a beautiful silver and I love it. I'm also a bit fluffier these days, and that's okay. It means I'm softer and gentler with myself as I gain the wisdom to NOT say "YES" to every opportunity that presents itself.

I cleaned out my closet the other day. I had a bin labelled "til we meet again." Man, the memories in that box. Every piece of clothing held a memory of what was... not what will be.

In project management terms, each item was Scope Creep.

Things I'd added along the way that no longer served the plan. Things I kept "just in case" that were quietly taking up space and energy I needed for what's next. Letting go of scope creep, in a project or a closet, isn't loss. It's what makes room for the work that actually matters.

So I threw them all into the Donate pile. Each. And. Every. Stitch. Anything that didn't fit, physically or emotionally, had to go. I've made room for my next chapter and all the wonderful things to come.

My closet, though, was the easy part. Mine to keep and mine to toss: no one else's memories in the pile.

My mom's house is a different story. Helping her downsize to a more manageable living space and life has me reflecting on my own latch-key years. The same fierce independence that got me through them is the same independence she's leaning on now, insisting she doesn't need help. That's where things get hard.

My mom loves plants. She has a whole room dedicated to them. The thing about plants is that they’re living things. Choosing which ones make the move is like asking her to pick which child gets to come.

Forty years doesn't pack into a donation box in one afternoon. The emotional side of downsizing means every item has a memory attached to it, and sorting through those memories takes longer than sorting through the STUFF.

If you're the one on the floor of your parent's house right now, going through boxes with them or for them, you already know it isn't really about your parent's stuff. It's about deciding what still serves them in this next chapter, and what's just taking up space.

I don't have this part figured out yet. Some days it's just me, her, and the boxes, deciding what stays and what goes.

I'm still figuring it out, and I'll keep sharing what I learn.