I am a hoarder. Not as in house dangerously stacked with piles of newspaper, but with every cupboard maxed out and every surface covered with something. I don't bat an eyelid at a floordrobe or a chairdrobe.
My DP hates it. He's minimalist because of the military. He likes spartan to the point that rooms are drab, unwelcoming and barren. I like warm feelings, comfortable and colourful. We are trying to mix the two, it occasionally it erupts into arguments.
Yesterday he lost his rag because the spare room, which he never goes in, had all my work stuff all over the bed. I have been meaning to tidy it, but my priorities are not rooms we barely go in. However, the message was making him anxious.
When I was getting prepared to move in with him, he and my best friend helped me declutter my flat ready to sell. That was really stressful for me, because I was ashamed of my hoarding, yet couldn't bear the waste of so much stuff going to the tip, or even the waste of the money I had spent on all that stuff now going to charity shops.
The house was the better for it, and there was a certain amount of catharsis, but I lost it in the end over a table I wanted to keep and they wanted me to throw away. That made me cry and they realised it wasn't just as simple as clearing things out.
It's a hard one to explain, but for me a lot of my self worth was tied into my possessions, and it was hard to throw it all out. Especially knowing the although they didn't say it, they were seriously judging me.
So please, don't throw the hoarders things out, you need to get them on board to do it. Expect there to be push back and tears, and don't expect miracles in one day. Even if we have insight, as I did, it is distressing to confront it. And I'm a mild case.