Why We Hold Onto Things: A Reflection on Beauty, Memory and Meaning

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the small, beautiful things we choose to keep.

Not because they’re valuable in a traditional sense—but because they hold something we can’t quite put into words. A tea cup, a page torn from an old book, a stone picked up on a walk. These little objects are more than just things—they’re tiny anchors in time.

Psychologists have a name for this. They call it the extended self—the idea that our possessions become part of who we are. The way we style a space, the items we collect, the stories we surround ourselves with—it all reflects what matters to us. What we’ve lived. Who we are.

I’ve come to realise that the objects I hold onto often carry a kind of quiet loyalty. A shark egg found on a beach walk, an old camera — these things aren’t valuable to anyone else. But to me, they’re loaded — with meaning, with memory, with a sense of self and a life lived.

And there’s science behind that too. Attachment theory suggests we form deep emotional bonds not just with people, but also with objects that remind us of them. That’s why something as simple as a faded recipe card in someone else’s handwriting can stop us in our tracks.

When we style interiors or photograph a scene, we’re not just arranging pretty things. We’re drawing out these invisible threads—identity, nostalgia, emotion—and giving them space to be seen.

So if you’ve ever kept something just because it felt like you, or couldn’t explain why a particular piece feels too precious to part with, know this: it makes sense. More than that, it’s deeply human.

And in a world that moves so fast, maybe that’s the quiet power of what we do—styling, creating, collecting. We hold onto beauty, and through it, we hold onto ourselves.