Clutter used to cause conflict in my marriage. I had a breakthrough about decluttering, and now, we communicate better.

• My husband and I deal with clutter in different ways.
• It used to cause conflict in our relationship.
• I had a breakthrough moment about my relationship with clutter, and now, we communicate better.

If I have to retrieve something from our basement utility room, I get heart palpitations. A waist-high assortment of boxes, bags, and building supplies is piled three feet from the wall. The paint shelves overflow. A broken chair sits in the middle of the floor, dust thick on its upholstered seat. For 25 years, I've wanted to toss that flea market find, but my husband insists he will fix it.

The utility room is my husband Mike's domain, and, in his defense, much of the clutter is a result of his beautiful basement renovations, which include a laundry room, new bathroom, and spacious rec room. Still, Mike is a saver, and I'm not, and that difference is a source of conflict.

I'm not a minimalist, either, but I don't save as much as he does

Full disclosure: I'm no neat freak. I often leave dishes in the sink, dirty socks on the floor, and my dresser top accumulates toiletries and tchotchkes faster than you can look up the definition of the word "tchotchke." Like Mike, I tolerate a certain degree of disorder. I feel as though my disorder is within my control, though. I can pick up quickly and toss what I choose. But when our collective clutter crosses an invisible line, and I lack the decision-making authority to address more than half of it, I want to scream.

Often in the past, I held my tongue because I didn't want to nag, and I'm instinctively a people-pleaser. But then my resentment grew and when I finally spoke up, it was nasty. We both ended up feeling bad. Mike would dig in his heels, I'd back down, and the situation remained unresolved.

I used to think my anger was simply a result of Mike holding onto too much "junk." That's part of it, of course. One woman's trash is her husband's treasure, I think the saying goes. Recently, however, I realized it's more complicated.

An overstuffed closet helped me have a breakthrough

This past November, I was in a funk. I wasn't happy with the result of the election. Also, I'd published a book about my people-pleasing in 2023 and had grown tired of marketing it. In fact, I'd grown tired of writing. I was a retired empty-nester with bad knees trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up.

One day, I opened the spare room closet and immediately became tense. The overflow of belongings wasn't Mike's alone, it was our entire family's. I wasn't angry at a person but at the clutter. Or maybe it wasn't exactly anger that I was feeling.

I had a lightbulb moment: Too much stuff makes me anxious, and decluttering gives me a feeling of control. If I'm bored or worried about something else, purging an area of its detritus makes me feel better. It's not about Mike, after all. It's about my relationship to clutter — we just don't get along.

Now, Mike and I communicate about clutter better

Before I got to work on the closet, I told Mike, "Just so you know — I enjoy getting rid of stuff. I'm doing this to make myself feel better." I'd never stated it so clearly before. My aha moment allowed me to approach Mike more lovingly about his other stashes. Instead of snidely scolding him, my words and tone were kind.

"Mike, do you want these two hats, or should I give them to Goodwill?"

Here's the bonus: Since I've been nicer about it, Mike lets go of more stuff. He no longer has the need to dig in his heels because I'm not attacking him.

It will always be easier for me to part with possessions than it will be for Mike. What is anxiety-provoking for me may be comforting for him. However, identifying my contribution to our dynamic and changing my behavior has allowed me to better respond to my needs. It's really a form of self-care.

I'll still avoid the utility room to control my blood pressure and respect Mike's man cave. If what looks like junk to me is his treasure, my way of loving him is to say, "It's all yours."