I decided to organise my bookcases because I thought it would make me feel calm, balanced, maybe even superior.

Instead, I’m on the floor surrounded by 14 past versions of myself, funko pop figures and plush toys that has seen too much.

Organising my shelves is exactly like organising my brain: I pull one thing out and suddenly everything is out, including memories I did not invite.

The Era Archives

Every shelf is a former personality.

There’s the “I only read meaningful literature now” era. She was intense. She drank water out of a wine glass for the aesthetic.

There’s the fantasy binge era. Fully convinced she was destined for something dramatic. (The drama was just adult responsibilities.)

There’s the self-help era. She bought the book, highlighted the book, became nothing like the book.

And I can’t throw any of them away because what if I circle back? What if 2026 is my “deeply intellectual minimalist” year?

My brain refuses to delete these versions too. They’re just… stored. Labeled. Occasionally reactivated without warning.

The Emotional Support Shelf

Then we have the random objects.

Dinosaur figures. A sparkly bookmark. A plush that has absorbed so many tears it should legally qualify as a therapist.

“Do you need that?”

First of all, mind your business.

Second of all, that plush has seniority. It was there during at least three identity crises and one dramatic haircut.These aren’t things. They’re emotional witnesses.

My brain hoards the same way:

Compliment from five years ago? Preserved like fine china.

Embarrassing thing I said once? Replayed nightly.

One moment of confidence? Framed and admired occasionally.

The Structural Lie

There is never enough shelf space. Yet I keep acquiring books like I own a secret annex.

So I double-stack. I angle things. I create the illusion of order.Which is also how I function as a person.

From a distance? Organised.

Up close? One mild inconvenience away from collapse.

In the end, my bookcases don’t look minimalist or curated.

They look layered. Sentimental. Slightly chaotic but holding it together out of pure stubbornness.

Just like my mind.

And honestly? If I’m going to have shelf esteem issues, at least they’re beautifully displayed.