According to the LA Times, the average American household contains over 300,000 items. But we also know how to hold onto all this stuff we buy. A 2013 article inPopular Science cites a statistic that seventy percent of Americans cannot park cars in their garages because it’s packed with too much stuff. I guess that’s why offsite storage facilities are one of the fastest-growing segments of the commercial real estate market.

There are differing views on why people like to buy and keep so much stuff they don’t need. According to an article in Inc., there is a direct link between the stuff you hold on to and how you feel about yourself. “The objects you struggle to get rid of are likely tied to your self-worth,” according to a 2011 study published in the Journal of Consumer Psychology. Rather than viewing those objects as “mine,” you may think of them as “me.”

Just like most everyone else in America, I have too much stuff. So, this summer, I’m embracing a utilitarian approach to spring cleaning: If I hadn’t used it in the past two years, it’s time to lose it. This means ridding my closets and drawers of all unworn clothing and shoes, no matter how much I think I love them. Looking through the growing pile of throw-away/give-away items, it’s clear to me how aspirational so many of my purchases were. And, the extent to which, as June Saruwatari, author of Behind the Clutter points out, I wanted to buy an emotion as much as an object. That size 2 Diane Von Furstenberg dress never fit me, but I pictured myself looking smashing when I wore it. Those glam Jimmy Choo silver strappy sandals never did work with anything I ever wore. But I still believed I’d look sexy in them.

There’s no place where I have more unused, aspirational stuff than in the kitchen. Peelers, corers, slicers, molds, bundt pans, quesadilla makers, outdoor dining sets, basket sets, napkins, and placemat sets: enough for a one-woman garage sale.

Most of my useless items broke down into one of seven “belief systems”:

“If I buy it, pain-in-the-butt tasks will be so much easier”

The mushroom brush, kiwi peeler, avocado peeler, mango peeler, pineapple corer (I used each of these items once), mayonnaise jar spoon (I could never find when I needed it), vegetable scrubbing gloves (these worked, but felt disgusting).

“If I buy it, I’ll save a ton of money”

Sushi Bazooka (I never got past step three in the instructions), vegetable juicer (I used it like crazy for about two weeks and then got sooo tired of cleaning it).

“If I buy it, I’ll become Martha Stewart”

Candy thermometer (you need this to determine if your boiling sugar has reached the hard or soft ball stage for desserts that require caramel, think: crème caramel, caramel buttercream — gazillion-calorie desserts I never eat), 6 sets of placemats, napkins, and napkin rings and three sets of outdoor dishes and wine glasses (I hate eating outside because of the bugs), baggies full of cookie cutters (letting the dough rest in the fridge for an hour and then having to roll it out was always a bridge too far), a set of 24 personal soufflé sized ramekins – I don’t make regular-sized soufflés so I’m certainly not making individual-sized soufflés. And 24? What was I thinking?

“If I buy it, my marriage will work”

Pasta roller (the family that makes pasta together, stays together, was my hope here), fondue pot, and forks (same idea; just gather round the fondue pot and you’ll both be smiling again).

“Homemade is so much better”

Yogurt maker (if you like runny, lumpy yogurt, this is the way to go), ice cream machine (given all the flavors and variety of delicious store-bought ice cream, nothing I made could justify the hours of preparation and waiting), bread maker (not sure what I was doing wrong, but every loaf that came out of this thing was as heavy as a doorstop).

“If I buy it, I won’t eat carbs”

Spiralizer (great idea, spiralized vegetables — I’ll never eat pasta again! — unfortunately this thing does NOT work).

“If I buy it, I’ll be super organized”

Multiple sets of plastic and glass storage containers and multiple wire racks on which to stack pantry items (some of these items are useful, but when you have more storage stuff than space to store it, you have a problem). Multiple sets of “nesting bowls” (why did I think I needed eight different-sized bowls in plastic and glass?)

“If I buy it, my daughter will have the best birthday party ever = I’m the best mom ever”

Taco Proppers – That’s right, u-shaped plastic holders that “prop” up your tacos so you can assemble them without spilling the contents, (they never made it out of their packaging). Cupcake tower (I used this once, about six years ago, and it was a success but it’s sat in the back of a hard-to-reach cupboard ever since).

In addition to all the aspirational unused cooking-related items, there’s also quite a collection of general stuff that has somehow migrated into the kitchen — stress balls, boxes of thumbtacks, half-used spools of twine, travel sewing kits, extra sets of supplies from old parties, boxes (and boxes!) of nails, ashtrays, piles of take-out menus and trail maps, Mandala stress relief adult coloring books, and various earth-friendly cleaning products that don’t work.

“Then there is the stuff that I’ve taken with me from place to place over the years”

Cookbooks I’ve never used, fancy serving dishes I’ve never served from, extra salad servers I never really liked, candle stick holders that have never seen a candle, my grandmother’s crystal wine glasses that I never use because they don’t go with any of my dishes, decorative paperweights (why do people still make these things? They serve absolutely no purpose).

It’s liberating to say goodbye to the unnecessary junk that took up space in my kitchen drawers and cabinets, and my imagination. Not to mention those things that were tying me to the past. What are you ready to clear out?