I fled my abusive husband taking nothing except my musical instrument, music stand and sheet music (the tools of my trade), a couple of bin bags of clothes for me and the children, one each of my two children's favourite cuddly toys, a photo album of my babies, and my favourite saucepan and knife (I love cooking). I left the house that I co-owned (and eventually signed it over to him just to get free), I left my car, I left every book, memento, piece of furniture, ornament, everything that was precious to me, and made a new life.
20 years later, I have a beautiful home, successful career, happy marriage, two children I am very proud of, and now grandchildren. He lived in a council bedsit, with only a passing relationship with his children.
But the kicker in this story is that he died recently and it came to light that all these years he was renting a storage unit full of those possessions of mine. He would rather pay 20 years rent on a storage unit than let me have a few treasured things. And you know what? Now my children and I can get those things, and not one of them do we want. Nothing. The things that seemed so important ended up meaningless. It's all gone to charity and the tip. That life was done 20 years ago and even when it could be reclaimed, it turned out it really was totally done. Things mean nothing in comparison to the lived life.
It's been very liberating.