AITA for donating my ex’s entire vinyl collection to charity the day after our breakup?

Oh, the drama of a breakup! It's never just about two people parting ways; it's about the entanglement of lives, shared spaces, and, inevitably, shared possessions. We've all been there, staring at an ex's forgotten items, wondering how to purge the past. But what happens when that purging takes a swift, decisive, and perhaps, extreme turn? Our story today dives headfirst into that messy territory, right into the heart of post-breakup rage.
Today's tale features a freshly single individual making a bold move that has sent shockwaves through their social circle and, now, the internet. The item in question? An entire, presumably valuable, vinyl collection belonging to the ex. The timing? The day after the split. The method? A donation to charity. Was this an act of empowerment, a rightful reclaiming of space, or a spiteful, over-the-top declaration of war? Let's unpack this melodic mess.

"AITA for donating my ex’s entire vinyl collection to charity the day after our breakup?"




Breakups are messy, emotional rollercoasters, and it’s completely understandable to want to cleanse your space and life of anything that reminds you of a painful past. The immediate urge to remove an ex's belongings, especially after a particularly nasty fight, often stems from a deep need for closure and a fresh start. On one hand, the OP's desire to reclaim her living space and emotional freedom is a valid one, seeking to prevent an extended period of uncertainty and potential future encounters.
However, we must consider the ex-partner's perspective and the nature of the items in question. A vinyl collection, especially one described as 'enormous' and 'meticulously curated' with 'many rare and expensive' albums, is more than just clutter. It represents significant monetary value, personal history, and deep sentimental attachment. While the ex said he'd pick things up 'eventually,' that vague timeline doesn't automatically equate to abandonment in the eyes of everyone, particularly for such cherished possessions.
Legally, the situation can be murky. Many jurisdictions have rules about abandoned property, but often require a reasonable amount of time or clear communication before items can be disposed of. The 'day after' timeframe is incredibly short and could be seen as an aggressive act rather than a responsible disposal. Was there any attempt to give him a firm deadline or offer to store them for a short period? This lack of prior notice significantly complicates the ethical standing of the action.
Ultimately, while the desire for a clean break is powerful, the method chosen here seems to have maximized emotional damage. There were likely other avenues, such as asking him to retrieve them within 48 hours, boxing them up for him to collect, or even selling them and giving him the proceeds. Donating such a personal and valuable collection, so swiftly, appears to lean more towards a punitive action than a simple act of moving on, regardless of who was 'right' in the breakup itself.
The Internet Weighs In: Was It Revenge or Just Moving On?
The comments section for this one has been, predictably, a battleground! Many users are firmly on the NTA side, arguing that the ex 'abandoned' his property and OP was well within her rights to clear her space. They emphasize the emotional toll of having an ex's items lingering, delaying the healing process. The sentiment is strong that if you leave your stuff, especially after a dramatic exit, you risk losing it. This perspective highlights the need for boundaries and personal well-being post-breakup.
On the flip side, a substantial number of commenters are vehemently YTA, pointing out the extreme nature of the act. They argue that a day is far too short a time to declare property abandoned, especially a valuable collection. The idea of destroying sentimental property as a form of revenge, rather than just moving on, deeply resonates with this group. Many suggest more reasonable alternatives, like setting a firm deadline, offering to ship them, or storing them, indicating that the donation was an unnecessarily cruel blow.



This story perfectly illustrates the brutal complexities of breakups and property. While the urge for a clean slate is relatable, the swift disposal of a highly cherished, valuable collection has certainly ignited a fierce debate. There's no denying the emotional weight behind such an act, whether it's perceived as liberation or retaliation. Ultimately, navigating post-breakup property means balancing personal healing with a degree of fairness, a line that can be incredibly difficult to walk when emotions are at their peak. What do you think? Was it justified, or a step too far?

