Understanding Hoarding: Moving Beyond Judgment to Compassionate Support

In response to an article today in The Guardian (”I’m never going back to living like this”), I wanted to throw in my two cents about hoarding and mental health. Over the past few months I’ve been working with people who have been struggling with hoarding behaviours, and I’ve had many discussions around the complex and deeply-rooted nature of our relationships with our belongings. Today’s article depicts an important shift in how we think about hoarding and people who hoard, moving away from judgement and towards understanding, compassion, and practical support.

In the article, we learn about Carol, and immediately we are under no illusions that Carol is struggling with clutter in her home, which is described as chaotic and unsafe. Carol describes her belongings as a manifestation of unresolved trauma. This offers insight into one of many psychological roots of hoarding and captures the common feeling of overwhelm.

Crucially, the article highlights the story of Jane, who states that shame is a large part of why she won’t engage. In my experience of supporting hoarders, a key difference that I have found in why Clear Path has been successful is the differentiation from ‘practitioner’ support. Too often, people tell me, they have had professionals dictating what they must do; being judgemental; and patronising them into making changes. This misses the emotional connection that many people have to their possessions. We all have attachments to certain objects, for example a beloved childhood toy, or a piece of jewellery belonging to someone we’ve lost. People who hoard form these attachments with objects that others might consider mundane or worthless, but the emotional connections they have don’t have any less value or impact. The challenge lies in understanding and respecting these connections while gently supporting people to make changes that improve their quality of life. This is where peer support can be particularly valuable, as it comes from a place of shared experience rather than professional authority.

I am under no illusion that severe hoarding can greatly impact wellbeing and quality of life, and I understand that sometimes people who lack capacity will need a firm hand to keep them and their communities safe. The article discusses the safety implications of hoarding, including risk of self-neglect through being unable to access bathrooms or kitchens, trips, falls, fire hazards, and vermin, and mirrors this with the judgement that is placed on people who are stigmatised for being ‘lazy, slovenly and dirty’. In general, people don’t respond to being told how to live their lives, although they should be encouraged to consider how their living conditions might be impacting their wellbeing and safety.

A key message that I will continue to deliver to participants of my group, present and future, is that I will never tell them what to do, nor will I visit their home, or ask for pictures or a scale of how ‘bad’ things are. I believe that the power of community support comes from empowerment, and the right for people to decide whether the time is right for them to make changes. I aim to create a space where people feel understood and supported, rather than judged or pressured. This approach recognises that sustainable change comes from within, when individuals feel ready and empowered to take those first steps.