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Still hanging on to your old diaries and teenage photos? Chuck them out – and start to live | Nell Frizzell

I’m moving house, which means coming face to face with a lifetime of mementos. I feel a burden lifting with each item I bin, donate or recycleThere is a particular sort of box that lurks in every home, full of “memorabilia” or “mementos”. Baby teeth, divorce certificates, spare keys for locks unknown, your granny’s old Padre Pio fridge magnet, the tenancy agreement for your last flat: the whole thing is rank with association, emotion, nostalgia and pain. That box is my nemesis. That box is doom.Because I decided that turning 40, being pregnant and training for a second career wasn’t enough to be getting on with in a single month, I am also in the lucky position of moving house. Which means opening various drawers, boxes, cupboards and ring binders, only to discover a pit of painful sent...

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