Unsubscribing from My Old Life

On Digital Goodbyes, Inbox Clutter, and the Ritual of Starting Over

Moken Marsai

Mar 24, 2025

What started as a simple task—streamlining my inboxes—turned into something much deeper.

A quiet ritual of excavation and release.

Like many of you reading this, I’m in a transition stage.

A liminal space where you can see the end, but you’re not quite there yet.

You’re shedding old layers. Slowly. Carefully. Reluctantly.

I’ve been in this space for a while now.

When I legally changed my name, it was the ultimate act of self-love. A tangible marker that I was moving into the next stage of my life.

But as the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day.
And neither is a new life.

This month, that ongoing reset led me to the most unglamorous corner of transformation: my email inbox.

The Task I Kept Avoiding

I knew it wasn’t going to be “fun,” but I didn’t expect it to feel this... emotional.

I had been putting it off for two years, going on three.
Part of me didn’t want to face what closing that chapter would actually require of me.

Because this wasn’t just sorting messages or deleting old newsletters.

It was:

Closing the inboxes of projects and businesses that never quite made it off the ground.
Archiving email threads from jobs that still make my stomach twist.
Reading messages from people who don’t speak to me anymore—and who maybe never will again.

And most of all, it was realising that this inbox might have been the last tether between me and certain people.

People who, if they ever decided to reach out, would now be met with that brutal but poetic message:

"This user no longer exists."

Inboxes As Time Capsules

Going through these emails felt like digital time travel.

Each login, each scroll, was a breadcrumb from a version of me I was leaving behind.

The ambitious girl with five side projects. The exhausted woman in that awful job. The hopeful messages I sent to people who never responded.

And the ones who did, back when our lives still overlapped.

There’s something sacred about bearing witness to your own evolution.

And something sobering about seeing how long you've carried dead weight.

But as I cleared those tabs, something unexpected happened.
My mind started to feel… lighter.

And after being stuck for years on a project I couldn’t figure out how to start, the answer finally came.

Effortlessly. Out of nowhere.

It clicked because the noise was gone.
I wasn’t just clearing emails—I was clearing space for ideas to land.

Ritualising the Mundane

To keep myself present through the process, I made it a ritual.

Not the kind with incense and altar work,but in the truest sense of the word:

Ritual: A simple act, done with intention and reverence.

Ritual, for me, is how I honour the “boring but sacred” work.
It’s how I make peace with the fact that deleting emails can be just as powerful as making art—if you do it with awareness.

And honestly, when you’re building a new life, no action is too small to matter.

Because It’s Never Just Email

Your Email Inbox = Your Mental & Energetic Clutter: Every unread email, outdated message, or pointless subscription is a psychic tab left open. By clearing it, I’m cutting cords. Closing loops.Making space for alignment to find me without friction.

Decluttering Your Inbox is Decluttering Your Path: This isn’t just about management—it’s about energetic sovereignty. Curating what has access to me. Protecting my Manifestor aura.My inbox should feel like a well-organised temple, not a chaotic flea market.

Efficiency Creates Freedom: A clean inbox = less noise, less anxiety, more clarity.When my external world is clear, my internal world can actually breathe.

🔑 KEY INSIGHT
This task is not “small” or “insignificant.” It is a manifestation of the discipline, clarity, and sovereignty required to step fully into your next era.

When Doubt Shows Up

Throughout the process, the inner critic had a lot to say:

“This is a waste of time.”
“You’re just avoiding the real work.”
“Who cares? It’s just email.”

But I had to remind myself:

I am not just organizing emails—I am refining my energetic boundaries.
I am claiming ownership of your space, time, and attention.
I am ensuring that when the right opportunities arrive, there is no clutter blocking my path.

The Goodbye That Set Me Free

There was grief in the process.
Grief for who I used to be.
For what never came to pass.
For the people who let go quietly and never said goodbye.

But there was also release.
And clarity.
And finally… space.

So if you're in the midst of your own transition—whether it’s changing your name, leaving a job, or quietly deleting a Gmail account from nineteen how long (aka forever ago)remember this:

You are allowed to make it sacred.
You are allowed to take your time.
And you are allowed to say:
“This version of me no longer exists.”