I felt guilty about not keeping my grandma's stuff. I live in a 450-square-foot apartment and was overwhelmed by all the things she had.

Eliza Evans, 38, inherited many items from her grandmother, who was an antique dealer.

The millennial felt overwhelmed by the amount of stuff she had to carry around whenever she moved.

She overcame her guilt and sold or donated the pieces while keeping a few precious, smaller things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Eliza Evans, a brand strategist in Chicago. It has been edited for length and clarity.

From the age of 7, I'd visit my grandparents in Florida and enter their magical world of buying and selling antiques.

We'd get in their van at 6 a.m. on a Saturday and show up three hours before the opening of an estate sale to get first dibs. Grandma was in her element as she picked out the items she wanted.

Grandma died in 2000 when I was 14. My mother and aunt inherited most of her possessions and gave several to me. I told them I was going to set up a museum in my house to display the precious items.

Then, as I became an adult, I began to see some of the things as a burden. Every time I visited Mom, she'd hand me dishes, linens, and clothes. I thought it would be disrespectful not to take them, but it got to the point where I felt overwhelmed.

I helped Mom decide what to keep, sell, give away, or store

Back when I was a kid, I'd help my grandma set up her stand at antique shows and garage sales, watching in admiration as she sold each piece. Her house was packed with treasures she'd never part with, including a musket from the Civil War that had been in our family for generations.

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She organized her collection of tiny porcelain and metal shoes and drawers full of costume jewelry in a certain way. I'd spend hours trying on the rhinestones and looking in the mirror. Back then, I wanted all the stuff.

Many years after my grandma's death, I met my future husband, Chris, now 40. He was a minimalist who wanted us to keep our home simple. I embraced his style, especially because we lived in small apartments in a city.

"What on earth am I going to do with Grandma's stuff?" I thought. "It has to go somewhere." There were several trips to Goodwill over the years, but I still couldn't part with the sentimental stuff.

In 2013, Mom downsized by moving from Virginia to Florida. I helped her go through the items, trying to decide what to keep, sell, or give away. Still, a lot of the stuff went into storage.

Then, in 2021, Chris and I flew to Spain to visit friends. We caught COVID and were stuck in Europe because of the travel restrictions. We lived out of a suitcase for months, never knowing when we were going to get home. My brain went nomadic and when we got back, I figured I didn't want to live in a house that was bigger than a hotel room.

We relocated from Richmond to Virginia in 2022 and had to move within 30 days because of our lease. Our studio apartment was 450 square feet. It was the push I needed to get rid of my guilt and offload much of my belongings.

It was sad, but they included an old dresser with hand-painted flowers that Mom had given me. It didn't have any value, and we left it out on the curb. It was gone within a few hours, so I like to think it found a good home.

I owned a Depression-era glass candy bowl, which I gave to my stepmother because it matched her decor. My sister-in-law is a devout Catholic, and I gave her a porcelain figure of the Madonna and Child that my grandmother always had on her bureau.

Both items were very special to me but were fragile and hard to move. I don't know whether my relatives will use or pass them on, but it felt good to gift them to those I care about.

I've kept a few treasured items that fit on a small shelf

We wanted to donate the Civil War rifle to a museum, but none of them had room for it. So we sold it to a buyer for around $800. I took a lot of photographs of the other items. You can preserve a key memory in a photo.

Meanwhile, I've kept a collection of things from my grandmother that are tiny enough to display on small shelves, including my grandpa's Swiss Army knife. There's even a piece of the Berlin Wall from 1989. When Grandma gave it to me, she explained the Berlin Wall because I was too little to know.

There's also an antique wooden box that has a secret button to open it. It fascinated me as a child. I'm glad to have learned that it's OK to choose what works for you and not keep the pieces that you feel you're supposed to.