Can we ever truly move on?

What I learned when I got rid of everything I owned. Plus, the importance of compliments, a favorite packing hack, and more.

The apartment was beautiful. Perched on the top floor of what had once been a stamp factory, it had been completely renovated. Everything was immaculate: the kitchen with its white marble and stainless steel; the bathroom with its glass doors and smooth tiles; the high-ceilinged rooms with their bleached wood floors. The light was impeccable, too: in th…