8 Things I Got Rid Of After 10 Years of Marriage

When I got married, the amount of things I owned swelled substantially; there were all the items that came from my husband’s apartment, plus the generous gifts we received off our wedding registry. At the time, I didn’t think I’d ever feel as luxurious as I did with brand-new 400-thread-count sheets and fluffy white towels. Well, it’s been 10 years now — and while my parents and grandparents may have kept their wedding china for a lifetime, many of the practical items I once cherished are long gone.

Over time I’ve realized we often need less than we think, and that some things simply outstay their usefulness. I’m someone who tends to keep things “just in case,” but in honor of my 10-year wedding anniversary, I’m fighting that urge. I want my home to feel welcoming and comfortable — just as this decade has made my relationship feel. So this is what I’m letting go of after 10 years of marriage.

These towels were my pride and joy when we first got married — a full set of snowy, hotel-like towels ready for guests. Over time, though, countless washes dulled their brightness. They’ve since been demoted from “company towels” to everyday ones, and now they’re finally being retired. A few have been repurposed (one lives in the car for drying dew off playground slides), but most have reached the end of their useful life. It’s tough to part with something that still technically “works,” but keeping only what’s truly functional makes our space feel fresher.

I once thought our top-notch utensils and pans would last forever. But in a testament to how much we cook at home, things break, degrade, or simply wear out. For years, our galley kitchen forced us to keep only the essentials. The 10-year mark felt like a good time to say goodbye to the most worn-out tools — the cracked mixing bowl, the warped spatulas — and make space for what still works.

In 10 years, tech has changed a lot, and our junk drawer proved it. I found chargers for devices we no longer owned, and cables for gadgets long gone. Once I confirmed we’d upgraded everything to USB-C, I tossed the rest. Fewer cords means less clutter and far less confusion when we need to actually charge something.

A year ago, I realized it didn’t “spark joy” to see the same plastic drawers I’d used in my college dorm sitting next to our dining hutch. Sure, they worked, but they were awkward and ugly. Just because a storage solution worked for 20-year-old me doesn’t mean it fits late-30s me. I’ve started replacing them with timeless, neutral storage cubes that look intentional — even when mixed and matched.

I used to think decor meant a few posters and prints taped to the wall. Over time, though, I’ve graduated to framed and matted art (even if it’s just affordable prints). Now, nothing goes up without a frame, and the old unframed pieces are being phased out. It’s a small but meaningful shift that makes our home feel more finished.

I’ve kept the sentimental mugs — the ones from college and volunteer gigs, or that sport our favorite teams — but the random glasses had to go. I wanted a matching set to put out for guests, so I settled on Duralex tumblers when a kid crowd is around, and a local artisan’s juice cups for wine or tea with adults. Everything else got donated, and my cabinets have never looked or felt so peaceful.

This was the year I finally tackled our linens. The random full-size flannel sheets from grad school? Gone. The beloved but ripped set? Gone. Any blanket that wasn’t comfortable or sentimental went, too. I wanted an organized system for the twin-, queen-, and king-size beds we have in our home, as well as a manageable amount of spreads and throw blankets, not a ballooning pile of them. 

Cutting boards ended up being the perfect metaphor for this whole process. We received several as wedding gifts, but over time a few became warped, splintered, or just plain yucky. I tossed the old plastic one, repurposed a beautiful handmade board as decor, and am attempting to refinish a wooden one. 

Ten years in, I’ve learned that curating what stays — and what goes — is the key to a more intentional home. Some things must go to make room for the things this next decade will bring.