When Letting Go Gives Us More

A BodyBright Reflection on Pruning, Perceived Lack, and Real Abundance.

I don’t love talking about this but maybe that’s exactly why I need to.

You know those little secrets you keep tucked away from daylight?

Well, this is one of mine. 

I have this habit...maybe even a little compulsion...of holding onto clothes.

There. I said it.

It might not be full-blown hoarding, but definitely more than I need… more than makes sense.

Not in some big dramatic way. I’m not maxing out credit cards or drowning in Amazon boxes. From the outside, you’d never know anything was off. But I buy clothes… and I keep clothes. I hold onto them longer than I should…long after I even remember they exist...hidden in the collection. 

Today I stumbled on something that made me pause.

I opened one of the many drawers I usually just shove shut and decided enough is enough. It was time to face the chaos and see if I could bring a little order to the madness. And somewhere between the digging and the sorting… I had an epiphany.

Letting go of some of these items, these shirts - really letting go - is actually giving me more.

More options.

More variety.

I know that probably sounds upside down, but stick with me.

Somewhere along the way, I picked up this belief that more clothes meant more options. A full closet felt like safety, like preparation. Like if I had enough outfits, I’d never feel that sharp pain of not-enough options again. I’ve traced it back to childhood. I had clothes on my back, don’t get me wrong. My basic needs were met. But I didn’t have the “it” clothes. Not the Z. Cavariccis or the "real" Keds with the blue label on the heel. Not the brands the popular girls wore. Not the things that felt like they unlocked belonging.

So I started to chase that feeling. If I couldn’t have the “right” things back then, I could at least stock up now. More jeans, more black tops, more just-in-case pieces. If I had enough, I’d feel like I was enough.

But here’s the hard truth I’ve had to face:

The more I collected, the less I actually wore.

And somehow, the less I even saw what I had as options to wear!

I’d reach for the same few things on top, wash, repeat, pile them back on top. Meanwhile, a whole drawer of good, meaningful things sunk to the bottom of the drawer.

Forgotten.

Until today. I opened a drawer and, for whatever reason, actually dug through it. All the way to the bottom. And you know what was there?

Not junk.

Not stuff I should’ve tossed years ago.

But some of my favorite pieces.

Things I truly love.

Things I’d been missing, not because they were gone, but because they were buried under too much.

So I did what I teach in Living BodyBright- the art of pruning.

Letting go of what no longer fits. Not just on my body, but in my spirit… in my life.

Some of the pieces carried stories I didn’t want to hear anymore.

Some were just worn out run through the dryer one too many times, stretched, faded, tired.

I had gotten my money’s worth. It was time. I heard the nudge:

“Let it go, Deanna.”

So I did.

Piece by piece, I sorted through.

Not just clothes, but memories. Expectations. Old versions of me.

I cleared out what wasn’t working anymore - physically, emotionally, spiritually - and made space.

And you know what happened?

I found more options.

Not because I bought more.

But because I saw more.

Because I created space to see what was already mine.

Maybe this isn’t just about clothes. Maybe it’s about all the ways we hold on too long. To habits. To expectations. To relationships or roles or stories that used to serve us but don’t anymore. We stuff our lives full, hoping it’ll make us feel safe, feel seen, feel enough. But instead, we end up weighed down. Disconnected from the beauty that’s buried underneath it all.

Maybe the life you’re longing for isn’t out there waiting to be bought or found.

Maybe it’s already within reach - just hiding under the clutter.

Letting go doesn’t mean you’ll be left with nothing.

It means trusting that what remains is what truly matters.

And that might just be where abundance begins.

Sometimes God meets me in big, sacred spaces.

And sometimes… it's over a messy drawer of workout shirts.

Either way, I’m learning:

When we make space, what we love rises to the top.

What’s real can breathe again.

And we can finally see…we already have more than enough.