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sad young woman laying by boxes
sad young woman laying by boxes
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CU Boulder | Life > Experiences

Collections Of Stuff: Attempts Of Memorializing My Past

Anna Bedell Student Contributor, University of Colorado - Boulder
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at CU Boulder chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

My mom has been telling me my entire life to clean my room. I wasn’t necessarily disorganized since I usually knew where everything was—I just had a lot of stuff scattered throughout my floor, desk and random drawers. 

Since beginning college, I’ve since taken most of the stuff I use on a daily basis to Boulder, but it still hasn’t eliminated even a little bit of all the things left in my room, waiting for something to be done with it. I wouldn’t call myself a hoarder (and I know all future hoarders say this), but the stuff I have at my parents’ house are all sentimental items that I just can’t seem to get rid of.

For example, I have kept nearly every single card I’ve ever been given—birthday, graduation, or Valentine’s related. They hang out in a box in my room and whenever another event passes, I’m excited to come home and put the new cards in along with the ones I received celebrating my first day of kindergarten. 

I’ve also kept a lot of school papers from elementary and middle school, specifically from my English classes. A self-proclaimed creative writer since age seven, I’ve considered these stacks of papers part of my journey into becoming the writer I am today. While I often cringe at the second-grade writings about my then-current friends or the middle school dystopian stories, it feels wrong to throw them away.

Most of all, what continues to live in my room is every single award I’ve ever received, big or small. My middle school would do these yearly awards about being an excellent student in certain subjects—I still have all of those. I have every track and field medal and ribbon I won, from a small meet to placing at state. I even have an award I won when I was in first-grade for this painting of a mallard duck I did, though I don’t remember painting this duck or winning the award.

Reflecting back on all this stuff I’ve acquired over my life, I wonder why it’s managed to stand the test of time. I’ve realized that I will give away all my clothes before I even think about throwing out that box of cards, or the first thing I’d save from a fire is this small box of trinkets I’ve collected over the course of my life. It’s not the utility or memory that these items provide, but rather the fact that it’s able to tell a story of my past, even if I don’t remember it from memory alone. Everything sentimental to me can be measured chronologically—those cards are dated with certain events and those writings have expressed every thought I’ve ever had over a 15 year time period.

I believe that I hold on so tightly to all these things from my past because I’m compensating for what I don’t know, or will never know.

As an adoptee, I had to grow up with the reality that I would likely never know my biological parents, my birth place, or my birthday. These are fundamental pieces of information that is completely normalized for everyone else, which has made the pain of not knowing worse. And while now I’ve mostly accepted that fact, it’s clearly manifested in needing to keep all the life-describing stuff I’ve ever acquired. 

I must say I’m getting slightly better as life goes on, mostly because now I can just take a photo of everything and keep it on my phone. I don’t find the need to keep paper awards anymore when I receive them, and it’s a 50/50 chance if a movie ticket ends up making it in its appropriate memory box. 

However, the struggle to get rid of things pre-college is the real problem. I have to remember that my worth isn’t determined by how many speech and debate ribbons I won back in junior year of high school, or by the stories my teacher complimented me on when I was in fourth grade. I can memorialize my own past with the relationships I’ve created over the years and from the memories I can look back on. While I don’t think I need to start throwing away everything that means something to me, I can start prioritizing what I actually value and dump what simply soothes the feeling of being forgotten. 

So next time I’m back at home for an extended period, I can fish out that duck painting award, stare at it one last time, and then get rid of it—I know my mom will thank me. However, the box of cards is definitely staying. And those journals.

Anna Bedell

CU Boulder '25

Anna Bedell is a contributing writer at the Her Campus, CU Boulder chapter. She writes content mainly on entertainment and culture, along with personal essays and experiences.

A senior at the University of Colorado, Boulder, Anna is majoring in business administration with an emphasis in marketing and a minor in journalism. An involved student in the business school, Anna writes for the school’s marketing department, is a representative for the Leeds Student Government, and works as a Leeds Student Ambassador.

Outside of school, you’ll find Anna rock climbing, watching movies, writing, or traveling around. She’s sure to constantly update her Spotify profile and will never miss an opportunity to talk about her cat, Biscuit.