A packing epiphany

There’s no better feeling than getting ready to leave your mundane day-to-day for a holiday, until it’s followed hard and fast by the realisation that you don’t want to leave anything behind by accident – at least that’s the case for me.

I have been an overpacker since school camp, but it’s something that’s taken me a long time to accept. Between hiding extra outerwear in any spare spot I could find in my companions’ suitcases to setting in motion serious spinal issues while pretending an over-the-shoulder bag isn’t breaking my back, I’ve been in denial for over a decade.

A turning point was when I begged my partner to help me sneak a rubber tree almost as tall as me into the overhead compartments on a domestic flight. (It was for a friend’s house-warming, but still.)

I apologise for taking an unnecessary amount of luggage with me at the drop of my straw hat, my hands full of other packing paraphernalia – my pillow, a well-thumbed summer read and precariously perched sunglasses. I unpack immediately on arrival to try and spread my belongings (and my burden) into more manageable-looking lots, and tuck my offending sack out of sight under the bed. Don’t get me started on the dread of having to drag it all back when the vacation draws to a close and I must relieve the overstuffed chest of drawers.

‘Perhaps overpackers are just more intelligent than those who don’t think or pack outside of the box?’

But I carry on. I’ve even let some hosts assume I’m heading off to another destination in order to overcompensate for the hefty four- wheeler rolling down the hill for a four-day stay by the seaside. For those who think summer vacations require less baggage due to the season’s lightweight essentials, have you ever run out of sunblock, or run into a tropical storm on an isolated island without any wet weather gear on hand? I haven’t. I’m prepared.

Let’s unpack that. Psychologists posture that overpacking is a sign of wanting to feel safe, to take some of your home comforts with you. For me, overpacking is synonymous with overthinking. What if your diaphanous sundress packed especially for a special event rips in two and you don’t have a back-up slip or a mending kit to patch your evening back together? That wouldn’t be very smart. Perhaps overpackers are just more intelligent than those who don’t think or pack outside of the box?

I used to spend intermittent hours listing what I should take with me, working out various versatile outfit combinations for maximum wear, while transplanting my skincare regime into tiny tubs, but I was still always reaching for an embarrassingly bigger bag. I saw it as a sign of incompetence to not be able to compartmentalise my life into luggage, but I will succumb to this no more. Instead, I accept it simply as another creative pursuit.

Now that I have fully embraced that I am an overpacker, and likely always will be, a weight has lifted off my shoulders. I throw whatever I wish into my bag without a care in the world. It feels as good as the holiday.

This is not intended as an excuse for owning more stuff (living more sustainably is important for all of us) but if you’re transporting what you already own, it could be seen as extending the items’ use. ■