• My husband and I have opposite organizational styles.
• I learned the hard way that pressuring him to change wouldn't work.
• A home remodel forced us to face the clutter, and now, we communicate much better.

I consider myself a pseudo-minimalist. I don't buy knickknacks when traveling, fill my home with extra furniture, or stock up on pantry, beauty, or toiletry supplies. I like having dresser drawers that close easily and bookshelves I can pull a novel from without four others toppling onto my head.

Now imagine the opposite of my personality in the clutter department, and you have my husband.

He's a collector. He's a saver of the socks I would throw out because they're starting to get a small hole, of the hockey gear that goes unused, of extra dinnerware we don't have room for.

So what are these two personalities doing living under one roof? Well, we love each other. And people do crazy things for love.

The difference between how we dealt with clutter took a toll

When we married and moved in together, the problem revealed itself in full. We had very different ways of organizing and even thinking about the items we bring — and keep — in our home.

I felt suffocated and panicked at the stacks, bags, and boxes of his things.

My attempts to purge items didn't go well. I didn't know how to be kind in my panic, and he didn't want things to change.

Living with so much clutter affected my mental health. I felt the pressure of organizing so many things. It seemed impossible to make stuffed spaces look nice. Rooms felt cramped, every storage area overflowed, and our fights over the subject became caustic.

I knew it was time for a different approach. He had emotional attachments to things that I didn't understand, but it didn't mean I was right in demanding that they go.

Health and wellness consultant Michelle Porter told Business Insider, "Studies show that cluttered spaces elevate cortisol levels, the body's stress hormone. For all household members, this can mean heightened irritability, difficulty focusing, and a reduced ability to relax." In short, our stuff affects our health, and I needed to reduce our load.

Biopsychologist Mary Poffenroth explains why organizing shared spaces can be so difficult. "What one partner thinks is necessary organization, the other partner may see as a threat to their emotional safety and well-being."

A remodel meant it was time for a new approach

During our recent kitchen remodel, I saw that even with the additional space provided by the new cabinetry, it still wasn't enough for all the appliances and dishes he owned. I suggested we only keep what would fit into the new space. To my surprise and delight, he agreed. This made the getting-rid-of-things talks that followed easier because we'd both consented beforehand.

At the end of the remodel, we donated several boxes.

I felt empowered. High on the win, we implemented this same tactic in other areas by creating a "one in, one out" rule. If a new shirt comes into the house, he donates one. The same goes for other clothing items. And now, when he wants to buy a new appliance, he considers first if we have a space for it.

We now have a new way of talking about clutter

For items going unused, it takes a little more patience. I'll bring up the item I'd like to discuss and the fact that it seems we don't really need it. I use the word "seem" specifically so he can correct me if he is using it and I'm wrong. He usually replies with how he's hoping to use the item soon and we agree to a timeline. Then, if it's not used at least an agreed-upon number of times over the next year, we'll sell or donate it.

Nowadays, our space is much more comfortable for me than when we first married. Decluttering our space will be an ongoing process as life and needs change, but we've learned how to talk through the "stuff" in a way that works for us both, and that's the real success story.

• I met my partner when I was seven years sober.
• Although I was far into my sobriety journey, some of his drinking habits triggered me.
• I told him my concerns, and we built a relationship on open communication.

I met my husband a few days after my seventh sobriety anniversary. I don't even remember when I first told him that I no longer drank because it simply wasn't a big deal for me by that point.

I'd lost any lingering embarrassment over being someone in recovery. My now-husband must've taken the news in stride; otherwise, I'm sure I would recall that first sobriety conversation better.

But as we got more serious, I realized we needed to have harder discussions. Some of those are more memorable because I had to be more vulnerable, and his response, if negative, could have ended our relationship.

My then-boyfriend started to trigger my addiction

Because of my history with addiction, I am aware of my boundaries to avoid relapse. For example, in the first year of sobriety, I couldn't live in a home with alcohol. It was too early for me and too scary to have temptation that close.

With time, things got easier. A year into sobriety, I was less easily triggered and moved in with a friend who kept bottles of wine in the house. I didn't ask her to remove them; I had enough discipline and trust in myself at that point.

When I met my husband, I could handle most bars and parties without being tempted. Having a partner who drank wasn't a dealbreaker for me, but I still needed boundaries within the relationship to protect my sobriety.

I realized some situations were triggering me as our relationship developed. It wasn't easy to share that a situation tempted me after all that time without drinking. But my sobriety had been too hard-won to risk skating over the issue.

I shared how going out to dinner was difficult because he ordered cocktails every time, and the frequency was too much for me. I also let him know I was uncomfortable seeing him tipsy and that it made me feel unsafe even though I knew he was safe. And later, when we bought our home, we went shopping for a liquor cabinet for him. It's not hard to have alcohol in the house, but bottles visible on the counter for long periods are more difficult for me.

In some cases, we struggled through these conversations. I couldn't even tell him why some things were more triggering than others. It took some back-and-forth to get to a place of understanding. He asked questions and did his best to listen and take action. This new territory was uncomfortable for both of us. But with every hard talk, we got a little better at it. And we always reached an agreement that felt like a step forward.

We now have a relationship built on open communication

Looking back, I can honestly see how helpful my sobriety has been in fostering our communication, forcing us to have some serious conversations early on. I had to be shamelessly vulnerable. My partner had to respond with empathy and action. I'm grateful he took me seriously.

We were also forced to dig deep and state our feelings clearly, including why some things rubbed me the wrong way. It was one of the best things that happened in building our relationship.

Here we are, four years later, married, and my 11th year of sobriety just celebrated.

No one should risk their sobriety for a relationship

I don't share my boundaries for anyone to compare their own. Everyone in sobriety has their personal level of need when it comes to distance or safety from substances. I've had weaker and stronger seasons, and my boundaries are mine. There's no shame in requiring an alcohol-free home.

If you've worked hard to get sober, don't risk something so precious to meet anyone else's standard. Ask for what you need to be healthy in your relationships.

My husband and I have discussed that if I go through a season of feeling more triggered, we would remove any alcohol from our home, and he would abstain completely. The level of support is there, no matter if the needle on the gauge changes. Some hard things can surprise you and turn into an advantage. It worked that way for us.