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In the Pro Wrestling Tees Merch Aew X Njpw Bullet Club Gold Shirt But I will love this comments section of the Washington Post article where the “news” was broken—pulled from an interview Kondo gave promoting her new book, Marie Kondo’s Kurashi at Home—there was a wave of backlash, frankly unhinged, from “We were ‘Kon’ed” and “After we all felt shamed AF by her to give all of our stuff away to keep things tidy when our kids were little.” Then, naturally, there was the backlash to the backlash, with Twitter erupting that white women needed to calm down and stop blaming others for their problems. One person wrote: “Marie Kondo told y’all to chill out and organize and some of you took it to a cultish level. If you feel betrayed by her admitting to being messy now you didn’t need storage bins. You needed therapy.”

It’s worth noting that I feel a special kinship with Kondo. In 2016, when she was promoting her second book, Spark Joy, she—and an entourage of nine!—came to my apartment to KonMari my closet. It was at the Pro Wrestling Tees Merch Aew X Njpw Bullet Club Gold Shirt But I will love this peak of KonMari hysteria, hot on the heels of the blockbuster success of her first book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, the Harry Potter of self-help books for the publishing industry. Neither she nor I had children at the time; it feels like a lifetime ago. We leisurely went through my closet, film crew in tow, and implemented her method of removing everything from the closet onto the bed and greeting each item to identify whether it sparks joy. If it no longer does, as with my BCBG green lace prom dress, it is time to thank it and let it go. Rewatching the video this week, it all looks blissfully simple—and I have to admit, upon seeing the finished sight of my pristine closet, I felt a pang of longing. Not only for my clothes to be that organized again but for the luxury of time to make them so—to spend a leisurely winter Sunday afternoon parsing through novelty socks to discover which ones make me truly joyful and which ones do not. But besides the lack of time, here’s the biggest Kon-flict for me. Sure, it would spark deep joy to get rid of the soul-crushingly loud three-foot-tall roaring T-Rex that my mother thought it wise to gift my son. I even recently secreted it away into a giveaway pile, but he delightedly unearthed it—“this dino hiding!”—and great joy was sparked for him all over again. I suppose the question is: Can I find joy in my new roommates, despite their immense amount of stuff that I would joyfully stuff in a contractor bag never to be seen again? And can I appreciate the joy these things bring them?

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