I Didn’t Have a Midlife Crisis Until I Opened My Storage Unit.
Confronting 20 Years of My Own Neglected Junk
My dad had been paying $150 a month for a storage unit for almost 20 years. He hadn’t opened it in a decade. When he finally did, he was confronted with a physical manifestation of his own neglected past: broken furniture, boxes of his old college textbooks, his kids’ baby clothes. He said it wasn’t just stuff; it was 20 years of procrastination and indecision. The overwhelming task of dealing with it all is what finally triggered his midlife crisis. That storage unit was a $30,000 tomb for a life he no longer lived.
The “Swedish Death Cleaning” I Did at 48 That Gave Me a New Life.
I Cleaned Up My Life for My Kids, But It Was a Gift to Myself
My mom read a book about “Swedish Death Cleaning”—the process of decluttering your life in your later years so your children don’t have to do it when you’re gone. She decided to do it at 48. She went through every closet, every box, every file. She asked herself the question: “Will this be a treasure or a burden to my kids?” The process was about curating her life’s possessions. But the surprising result was that it gave her a new life. She was left with a clean, simple, meaningful home that was a joy to live in.
My Cluttered House Was a Perfect Metaphor for My Cluttered Brain.
The Chaos on the Outside Mirrored the Chaos on the Inside
My friend’s house was a mess. Piles of mail on the counter, clothes draped over chairs, a garage full of junk. She was also feeling anxious, overwhelmed, and unable to think clearly. Her therapist pointed out the connection. Her cluttered home was a perfect physical metaphor for her cluttered mind. She spent one weekend doing a ruthless declutter of just her bedroom. The feeling of calm and clarity she felt in that one clean room was so profound that it motivated her to tackle the rest of the house, and in doing so, the rest of her life.
The Agonizing Process of Decluttering My Kids’ Childhood Stuff.
Every Clay Handprint Was a Tiny Stab to the Heart
The hardest part of my midlife declutter was my kids’ childhood things. They are grown and out of the house, but I had boxes filled with their tiny shoes, their first-grade art projects, their favorite stuffed animals. Every object I picked up felt like a tiny, precious memory, and the thought of getting rid of it felt like I was throwing away a piece of my own history and their childhood. It was an agonizing and emotional process of deciding what to keep and what to let go of.
I Hired a Professional Organizer for $1,000. Here’s a Look Inside the Process.
The Best Money I Ever Spent on My Mental Health
My boss, a busy executive, was drowning in clutter at home. She finally hired a professional organizer for two full-day sessions, which cost about $1,000. The organizer wasn’t just a cleaner. She was a ruthless but compassionate coach. She helped my boss define what she wanted from her space, forced her to touch every single item and make a decision, and then created logical, sustainable systems for the things she kept. My boss said it was the best money she ever spent, not on her house, but on her own sanity.
The “One-In, One-Out” Rule That Stopped My Midlife Accumulation.
The End of My Closet’s Population Boom
After years of accumulating clothes, books, and gadgets, my house was full. To stop the endless accumulation, I adopted a simple “one-in, one-out” rule. If I buy a new pair of shoes, an old pair has to be donated. If I buy a new book, an old one goes into the “Little Free Library” down the street. This simple rule has been a game-changer. It forces me to be much more mindful about my purchases and has kept my home at a state of equilibrium, preventing the clutter from ever building up again.
The Emotional Toll of Decluttering My Parents’ Home After They Passed.
Sorting Through a Life in a Weekend
After my grandmother passed away, my mom and her siblings had to clean out her home of 60 years. It was a physically and emotionally brutal process. They weren’t just sorting through objects; they were sorting through a life. Every teacup, every photograph, every piece of clothing held a memory. They had to make hundreds of small, heartbreaking decisions about what to keep, what to sell, and what to give away. It was a crash course in grief, family history, and the surprising weight of sentimental things.
I Threw Out 20 Years of “Sentimental” Items. I Felt Guilty, Then Free.
My Memories Are in My Head, Not in a Box
My garage was filled with boxes of “sentimental” clutter: my old college yearbooks, concert ticket stubs, greeting cards. I felt obligated to keep them, but they were just taking up space. One day, I took a deep breath and threw almost all of it away. For the first hour, I felt a pang of guilt. But then, a profound sense of freedom washed over me. I realized my memories are not in those boxes; they are in my mind and in my heart. I freed myself from the burden of being the curator of my own past.
The “Capsule Wardrobe” Experiment That Cured My “I Have Nothing to Wear” Panic.
30 Pieces of Clothing, Infinite Peace of Mind
Despite having a closet overflowing with clothes, I always felt like I had nothing to wear. I decided to try a “capsule wardrobe” experiment. I selected only 30 versatile, high-quality items of clothing to wear for three months. Everything else was packed away. The result was transformative. Getting dressed in the morning took two minutes. Everything matched. I actually felt more stylish with fewer options. It cured my decision fatigue and proved that the secret to a great wardrobe is less, but better.
My “Digital Declutter”: How I Cleaned Up My Phone, My Laptop, and My Soul.
My Brain Felt as Messy as My Desktop
The clutter in my life wasn’t just physical; it was digital. My phone was full of apps I never used. My computer desktop was a chaotic mess of random files. I had thousands of unread emails. I spent a Sunday doing a “digital declutter.” I deleted apps, organized my files into a simple folder system, and unsubscribed from dozens of newsletters. The sense of mental clarity that came from having a clean, organized digital space was just as powerful as cleaning my physical house.
The Day I Realized My “Stuff” Owned Me.
I Was a Janitor for My Own Possessions
I was spending my entire weekend managing my stuff. I was cleaning it, organizing it, repairing it, storing it. I had a sudden, horrifying realization: I didn’t own my stuff; my stuff owned me. My possessions were demanding my time, my energy, and my money. They were a burden, not a joy. That was the day I started my minimalist journey. I wanted to be the master of my own life, not the full-time, unpaid janitor for my own possessions.
How a Minimalist Mindset Healed My Midlife Anxiety.
Less Stuff, Less Stress
My midlife anxiety was through the roof. I felt overwhelmed by my responsibilities. A friend suggested I try minimalism. I thought it was just about having white walls and no furniture. But as I started to declutter my home, I realized the philosophy was much deeper. With less stuff to manage, I had more time. With fewer purchasing decisions to make, I had more mental energy. With a clearer space, I had a clearer mind. The minimalist mindset—the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts us from it—was a powerful antidote to my anxiety.
The “Just in Case” Items I Was Hoarding From a Life I No longer Lived.
I Was Keeping a Wardrobe for a Fantasy Self
My closet was full of “just in case” items. I had fancy dresses “just in case” I went to a gala (I never do). I had my old, skinny jeans “just in case” I lost 20 pounds. I had camping gear “just in case” I suddenly became an outdoorsy person. I realized I was hoarding items for a fantasy version of myself, not the person I actually am. Letting go of those “just in case” items was an act of accepting and loving my real life, right now.
The Financial Windfall From Selling My Midlife Clutter.
I Turned My Junk Into a Vacation Fund
After my kids moved out, I realized my house was full of things we no longer needed: old furniture, sports equipment, electronics. I spent a month selling the stuff on Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist. I wasn’t expecting much. But by the end of the month, I had made over $2,500. It was a financial windfall I had never expected. I had literally turned the clutter that was causing me stress into a vacation fund. It was a powerful lesson in the hidden financial value of decluttering.
My Partner Is a Packrat. How We Decluttered Our Home Without Getting a Divorce.
“Yours,” “Mine,” and “Ours” Piles
I’m a minimalist; my husband is a packrat. Our shared spaces were a constant source of conflict. We finally found a system that worked. We designated “no-clutter zones” like the kitchen counter. For other areas, like the garage, we designated “his” space and “my” space. When we decluttered a common area, we had three piles: “yours,” “mine,” and “ours.” The “ours” pile had to be a unanimous decision to keep. This strategy of creating clear boundaries and designated zones saved our sanity and our marriage.
The “30-Day Minimalism Game”: How I Got Rid of 465 Things.
A Gamified Approach to Decluttering
I was overwhelmed by the thought of decluttering my whole house. I decided to try the “Minimalism Game.” The rules are simple: on day one, you get rid of one thing. On day two, two things. On day thirty, thirty things. I got my a friend to do it with me to keep me accountable. By the end of the month, I had gotten rid of 465 items without it ever feeling like a monumental task. The gamification made the process fun and manageable.
The Surprising Mental Clarity That Came From a Clean-Desk Policy.
A Clear Desk, a Clear Mind
My desk at work was a disaster—piles of paper, old coffee mugs, random office supplies. My mind felt the same way. I decided to implement a strict “clean-desk policy” for myself. At the end of each day, I take five minutes to clear everything off, file what’s necessary, and wipe it down. The next morning, I arrive to a clean, calm workspace. This simple habit has had a remarkable effect on my ability to focus and my overall sense of professionalism. A clear desk really does lead to a clearer mind.
The Books and Trophies From My “Old Self” That I Finally Let Go Of.
I Was Clinging to a Past Version of Me
My bookshelves were filled with textbooks from my college major, a field I no longer work in. My closet had a box of trophies from my high school sports career. I was holding onto these things as proof of a past identity. But I am no longer that person. Letting go of those books and trophies was a powerful act of embracing who I am now, not who I was 25 years ago. It created space, both literally and metaphorically, for my current self to thrive.
I Decluttered My “Friendship” List Along With My Closet.
The Relationships That No Longer “Sparked Joy”
The process of decluttering my home inspired me to declutter my social life. I made a list of all the people I spent time with and asked the KonMari question: “Does this relationship spark joy?” I realized I was holding onto some friendships out of guilt or habit, even though they consistently left me feeling drained. I didn’t have dramatic “breakups,” but I consciously stopped putting energy into the relationships that no longer fit. My social circle is smaller now, but it’s much more authentic and uplifting.
The “Memory Box”: A Contained Way to Honor the Past Without It Taking Over the Present.
One Box to Rule Them All
I struggled with getting rid of my kids’ sentimental childhood items. The solution was the “memory box.” I got one large, archival-quality box for each of my children. I went through all their old artwork, report cards, and tiny shoes, and I kept only the absolute most precious, representative items. Everything had to fit in that one box. This allowed me to honor and preserve their history in a way that was contained and manageable, instead of having it take over my entire basement.
The Guilt of Getting Rid of Gifts.
The Gift’s Job Was Done the Moment It Was Received
My house was full of gifts I had received that I didn’t like or use. I felt so guilty getting rid of them. A friend gave me a new perspective. She said, “The purpose of a gift is to be a physical expression of a kind thought from the giver. The gift has fulfilled its purpose the moment you have received that kind thought. You are not obligated to store that object in your home forever.” This reframing completely released me from the guilt. I could be grateful for the thought, and then let go of the thing.
How Decluttering My Kitchen Transformed My Health and Eating Habits.
A Clean Kitchen Makes You Want to Cook
My kitchen was so cluttered with expired spices, unused gadgets, and junk food that cooking felt like a chore. I spent a weekend ruthlessly decluttering it. I threw out all the processed junk. I organized my pantry. I made my healthy ingredients visible and accessible. The transformation was amazing. Having a clean, organized, and inspiring kitchen actually made me want to cook healthy meals. Decluttering my physical food environment was the first and most important step in changing my eating habits.
The “Paperwork” Mountain and How I Finally Conquered It.
My Filing Cabinet of Doom
I had a huge, terrifying pile of unsorted paperwork—old bills, medical records, tax documents. I called it my “paperwork mountain.” I finally conquered it by breaking it down into tiny steps. My rule was “15 minutes a day.” Every day, I would set a timer for 15 minutes and just sort through a small part of the pile. It wasn’t overwhelming. Slowly but surely, over a few weeks, the mountain disappeared. The secret to conquering a huge, intimidating task is to break it down into ridiculously small, non-threatening chunks.
My Garage Was a “Hobby Graveyard.” I Gave It a Funeral.
Saying Goodbye to My Fantasy Selves
My garage was a “hobby graveyard.” It was filled with the ghosts of my past ambitions: the half-finished woodworking project, the dusty home-brewing kit, the expensive camera I never learned how to use. Each one represented a fantasy version of myself. Decluttering the garage was like giving those fantasy selves a funeral. I had to admit I was not, in fact, going to become a master woodworker. Letting go of those failed hobbies was a way of accepting who I am and freeing up space for my real passions.
The Unexpected Grief I Felt While Decluttering.
Every Object Was a Tiny Farewell
I thought decluttering would be a simple, organizational task. I was surprised by the waves of grief that came up. As I went through my deceased parents’ belongings, every object was a story. As I went through my own old things, I was saying goodbye to past versions of myself—the young professional, the new mom, the woman I used to be. The process wasn’t just about cleaning out a house; it was about processing a lifetime of memories, losses, and transitions.
How I’m Teaching My Kids Not to Make My “Clutter” Mistakes.
We Focus on Experiences, Not Things
I see my own “clutter” habits starting in my kids. To combat this, we’ve made a shift in our family culture. For birthdays and holidays, we now focus on gifting experiences instead of things. Instead of a new toy, we’ll get tickets to a concert or a pass to the zoo. We talk openly about the difference between “wanting” something and “needing” it. I’m trying to teach them that a rich life is about the memories you make, not the stuff you accumulate.
The “Does This Spark Joy?” Question Applied to My Career, Relationships, and Commitments.
A Midlife Audit of My Entire Life
Marie Kondo’s famous question, “Does this spark joy?” is a powerful tool for decluttering your closet. I decided to apply it to my entire life. My job: does it spark joy? My friendships: do they spark joy? My weekly commitments: do they spark joy? It was a revealing and slightly terrifying midlife audit. It showed me all the areas of my life where I was operating on autopilot or out of a sense of obligation. It became a powerful filter for making decisions and decluttering my calendar, not just my home.
The Visual “Noise” in My Home Was Stressing Me Out Without My Realizing It.
My Brain Was Overloaded by My Own Belongings
I had gotten so used to the clutter in my home that I didn’t even see it anymore. But I felt a constant, low-grade hum of stress. A minimalist friend pointed out that every object in your field of vision is a piece of information your brain has to process. My cluttered surfaces and overflowing shelves were creating a constant “visual noise” that was overloading my nervous system. When I cleared the clutter, I lowered the visual volume of my home, and my brain could finally relax.
I Went “Shopping” in My Own Closet and Discovered a New Wardrobe.
I Had Forgotten About My Own Best Stuff
Feeling like I needed a style refresh, I was about to go on a major shopping spree. Instead, I decided to first go “shopping” in my own closet. I pulled out every single item. I found a beautiful sweater I had completely forgotten about. I discovered that a pair of pants I thought was “out of style” actually looked great when paired with a different top. By “shopping” my own closet first, I was able to create a whole new set of outfits without spending a dime.
The “Project 333” Challenge: 33 Items for 3 Months.
A Radical Experiment in Wardrobe Minimalism
I was intrigued by the minimalist fashion challenge “Project 333.” The rule is to dress with only 33 items (including clothes, shoes, and accessories) for 3 months. It sounded impossible, but I tried it. The first week was a challenge. But then it became incredibly liberating. Decision fatigue vanished. I learned to be more creative with the pieces I had. And I realized I had been using only about 20% of my massive wardrobe anyway. It was a radical experiment that completely changed my relationship with clothes.
The Surprising Amount of Time I Reclaimed From Not Managing My Stuff.
The Hidden Time Cost of Clutter
I decluttered my house to have a nicer space. The unexpected side effect was how much time I got back. I wasn’t spending my weekends organizing my garage. I wasn’t spending 15 minutes every morning looking for a matching pair of socks. I wasn’t spending time dusting a hundred little trinkets. I estimate that I reclaimed at least 3-4 hours every single week, just from not having to manage, clean, and organize my own possessions. The time I gained was even more valuable than the space.
The “One-Touch” Rule for Mail and Paperwork That Changed My Life.
Dealing With It Now, Not Later
The mail used to be my enemy. I’d bring it in, put it in a pile on the counter, and it would grow into a terrifying mountain of dread. I adopted the “one-touch” rule, and it changed my life. Now, when I bring the mail in, I deal with it immediately. Junk mail goes straight into the recycling. Bills get opened and put in a “to-pay” folder. I only touch each piece of paper once. This simple, two-minute daily habit has completely eliminated my paperwork pile and the anxiety that came with it.
How I Digitized 20 Years of Photos and Reclaimed an Entire Closet.
My Memories Are Now in the Cloud, Not in a Box
I had over 20 massive, heavy photo albums stored in a closet. I never looked at them because it was too much of a hassle. I finally invested in a high-speed photo scanner, which cost about $400. Over a few weekends, while watching TV, I digitized my entire photo collection. I now have all my memories safely backed up in the cloud, where I can actually access, enjoy, and share them. And as a bonus, I reclaimed an entire closet’s worth of storage space.
The “Decluttering Hangover”: The Exhaustion After a Big Purge.
The Emotional Toll of a Thousand Small Decisions
After spending a full Saturday decluttering my basement, I expected to feel energized and accomplished. Instead, I felt completely drained, almost like a hangover. I realized that the process of decluttering is not just physical labor; it’s emotional labor. You are making hundreds, if not thousands, of small decisions. You are confronting past versions of yourself, dealing with guilt, and processing memories. The “decluttering hangover” is real. The exhaustion is a sign that you’ve done significant emotional work.
I Created a “Home” for Everything. My Brain Thanked Me.
My Keys Finally Have a Place to Live
I used to waste so much time and mental energy looking for things: my keys, my wallet, my glasses. A professional organizer gave me a simple piece of advice: everything you own needs a designated “home.” I put a small bowl by the front door. That is the “home” for my keys. I installed a charging station on my nightstand. That is the “home” for my phone. By giving every important object a permanent, logical home, I have virtually eliminated that frantic, daily search.
The Psychological Reason We Hoard Things in Midlife.
My Stuff Was My Armor Against an Uncertain Future
As I started decluttering, I had to ask myself why I was holding onto so much stuff. I realized it was rooted in fear. I was hoarding things “just in case” of some future catastrophe. My stuff was my armor against an uncertain future. I was also holding onto sentimental items because I was afraid of losing my memories and my past. The clutter wasn’t about the objects; it was about my own anxiety about the future and my grief about the past.
The “Letting Go” Muscle: How Decluttering Strengthened My Ability to Move On.
Every Donated T-Shirt Was a Repetition at the Gym
The process of decluttering is a workout for your “letting go” muscle. The first few items are hard. You feel guilt and anxiety. But the more you do it, the easier it gets. Every old t-shirt you donate, every book you give away, is like one repetition at the gym. You are strengthening your ability to release your attachment to things. I found that this muscle, once developed, helped me let go of other things in my life, like old resentments and outdated beliefs.
My Home Now Feels Like a “Sanctuary,” Not a “Storage Unit.”
I Only Live With Things I Love and Use
Before my decluttering journey, my home felt like a chaotic storage unit for my past and my anxieties. It was full of things I didn’t use, didn’t love, and kept out of obligation or fear. Now, my home is a sanctuary. It contains only the things that are beautiful, useful, or deeply meaningful to me. It is a space that supports the person I am today and the person I want to become. It is calm, peaceful, and a genuine reflection of my values.
The Best Charities and Organizations for Donating Your Midlife Clutter.
My Old Suit Can Help Someone Nail a Job Interview
Getting rid of my stuff felt much better when I knew it was going to a good home. I did some research on the best places to donate. I learned about organizations like “Dress for Success,” which takes professional clothing to help women re-enter the workforce. I found local animal shelters that needed old towels and blankets. Knowing that my old, unwanted suit could help someone else land a job made the process of letting go feel like a positive act of contribution, not just a purge.
The “Seasonal Declutter” Ritual I Now Swear By.
A Quarterly Tune-Up for My Home and My Head
Instead of letting the clutter build up until it’s overwhelming, I’ve adopted a “seasonal declutter” ritual. At the beginning of each new season, I spend one afternoon doing a quick tune-up. I go through my closet and pack away the off-season clothes, donating anything I didn’t wear. I clear out the pantry. I sort through the mail pile. This regular, quarterly maintenance keeps my home and my mind in a constant state of clarity and prevents the clutter from ever reaching a crisis point again.
How I Got My Kids on Board With Decluttering Their Own Rooms.
The “One Box” Challenge
I was tired of fighting with my kids about their messy rooms. I tried a new tactic. I gave each of them one medium-sized cardboard box. I told them they could keep any toy that fit inside the box. Anything else had to be donated or sold (and they could keep the money). The “one box” constraint turned it into a game. It forced them to make conscious choices about what they truly loved and valued. It was far more effective than my years of nagging.
The “What If I Need It Someday?” Anxiety and How to Beat It.
The “20/20” Rule
I was paralyzed by the “what if I need it someday?” fear. A minimalist blogger suggested the “20/20” rule, and it has been a game-changer. The rule is: if you can replace the item for less than $20 and in less than 20 minutes from your current location, you can safely let it go. This applies to most things—common kitchen gadgets, basic tools, office supplies. Realizing how easily I could re-acquire most of my “just in case” items made it so much easier to donate them.
I Read Marie Kondo’s Book. Here’s What It Actually Got Right (and Wrong) for a 50-Year-Old.
The “Spark Joy” Question Is Different in Midlife
Marie Kondo’s method is brilliant, but it needs some adaptation for midlife. What she gets right is the core idea of touching every item and consciously choosing what to bring into your future. What she gets wrong for a 50-year-old is the sheer volume. She’s not dealing with 30 years of accumulated professional files or three generations of sentimental family heirlooms. And the “spark joy” question is more complex. A comfortable pair of orthopedic shoes might not “spark joy,” but they are an essential part of a pain-free life.
The Mental Shift From “Scarcity” (Must Keep Everything) to “Abundance” (Can Let Go).
My Clutter Was a Reflection of My Fear
I realized my cluttered home was a physical manifestation of a “scarcity” mindset. I was holding onto things because I was subconsciously afraid that I wouldn’t have enough in the future. The process of decluttering was also a process of shifting to an “abundance” mindset. It was about developing a trust that I will have what I need, when I need it. I don’t need to hoard three half-used bottles of ketchup. I can trust that I will be able to buy ketchup when I need it.
The “Costume” of a Younger Self I Found Hanging in My Closet.
That Person Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
In the back of my closet, I found the “costume” of a person I no longer am. There was the tiny dress I wore to clubs in my twenties. There was the power suit I wore for my first big corporate job. They were a costume for a role I was no longer playing. Holding onto them felt like holding onto a ghost. Letting them go, donating them so someone else could use them for their own current role, was an act of honoring my past while fully embracing my present.
The Freedom of a Nearly Empty Car Trunk.
I Was Driving Around a Storage Unit on Wheels
My car trunk used to be a mobile storage unit. It was filled with gym bags, old shoes, emergency supplies, and random junk. It was a constant, low-grade source of stress. I spent 30 minutes one day and completely emptied it. I put back only a small, organized emergency kit. The feeling of opening my trunk and seeing a clean, empty space was surprisingly liberating. It felt like I had more bandwidth, not just more cargo space.
How a Tidy Home Improved My Sleep.
My Bedroom Was No Longer My To-Do List
My bedroom was a cluttered, stressful space. There was a pile of laundry on a chair. My nightstand was covered in books and papers. My brain associated my bedroom with stress and unfinished tasks. When I ruthlessly decluttered my bedroom and created a rule that it was a “no-clutter, no-work” zone, my sleep improved almost immediately. My brain could finally associate the space with calm and rest. A tidy bedroom is a powerful, non-medical sleep aid.
The “Clutter” in My Calendar and How I Wiped It Clean.
I Was as Over-Scheduled as My House Was Over-Stuffed
The minimalist mindset started to bleed into other areas of my life. I looked at my calendar and realized it was just as cluttered as my house had been. It was filled with non-essential meetings, draining social obligations, and “shoulds.” I did a “calendar declutter.” I started saying “no.” I blocked out white space for rest and deep work. Just like with my home, creating more empty space in my calendar resulted in more peace and productivity.
The Last Box: The Hardest Sentimental Items to Let Go Of.
The Final Boss of Decluttering
After I had decluttered my entire house, I was left with one final box. The “hard box.” It contained the most sentimental and emotionally charged items: letters from an old flame, a ticket stub from a significant concert, a program from my father’s funeral. These weren’t just things; they were powerful emotional artifacts. I learned that it’s okay for this last box to take the longest. It’s the final boss of decluttering, and it requires the most compassion and care.
My Home Is No Longer a Museum of My Past; It’s a Workshop for My Future.
I Made Space for the Person I Am Becoming
My cluttered home was a museum dedicated to my past self. It was filled with artifacts and memories. The problem was, I was so busy curating the museum that I had no space to live in the present or build a future. The process of decluttering was about changing the function of my home. It is no longer a museum. It is now a workshop. It’s a clean, inspiring, functional space that is designed to support the person I am today and the creative, joyful life I am building for my future.