Published December 18, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

Sometimes in life, the healthiest thing we can do is let go. Not because something is bad, but because holding on has quietly become heavy. Letting go can be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual—and often it’s all four at once. It’s rarely easy, and it almost never feels clean. But growth rarely asks for comfort first.

In the collecting journey, this can be especially painful. The things we consider letting go of aren’t just objects. They carry stories, seasons, people, and versions of ourselves. A card might remind you of who you were when you pulled it, who you were with, or what the hobby felt like before it got complicated. That emotional gravity is real—and it deserves to be acknowledged, not dismissed.

At the same time, there’s an uncomfortable truth many of us eventually face: not everything we hold still serves us. And value isn’t just monetary. Value is peace of mind. Value is clarity. Value is space. Value is time. When we let go of things that no longer provide those forms of value, we don’t lose meaning—we often make room for it.

This doesn’t just apply to collectibles. It applies to habits that drain us, routines we’ve outgrown, environments that keep us stuck, expectations we didn’t choose, and even relationships that no longer align with who we’re becoming. Letting go is rarely about rejection—it’s about realignment.

Sometimes appreciation doesn’t come from adding more—it comes from finally noticing what’s been there all along.

There’s something powerful that happens when we trim the excess. When we’re no longer buried under everything we’ve accumulated—physically or mentally—we can finally see what remains. A more intentional collection. A clearer sense of self. A deeper appreciation for the pieces that truly matter. Curating isn’t loss; it’s focus.

If letting go feels especially hard right now—whether that’s selling, trading, passing on a purchase, or even walking away from a familiar pattern—try creating a simple checklist. Ask yourself:
Will I still want this in a week? In a month? In a year? In five years?
Does this actually add value to my life?
Does it take up real estate in my mind?
Do I ever think about it—or do I forget I even own it until I stumble across it again?

There’s no perfect scorecard, but patterns emerge. And those patterns can guide you. Think of it as a “letting go compass“—not to force decisions, but to bring clarity to them.

Here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: every time you let go of something meaningful and survive it, you build stamina. You prove to yourself that you can honor the past without being owned by it. That you can make intentional choices without erasing your story. That strength compounds. The next decision becomes a little less terrifying. The grip loosens.

Letting go doesn’t mean you didn’t care. It means you care enough about your well-being to choose what you carry forward.

#CollectorsMD
Sometimes the most meaningful way to move forward is by choosing what not to take with you.

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Published December 17, 2025 | By Dayae Kim, LMFT, Collectors MD Referral Network

I say this every year, but I can’t believe another year is coming to an end. Every year holds so much, and yet time feels both fast and blurry. Time can feel strange—the last few months of the year feel clear, but the beginning of the year often feels like a haze. I’ve noticed this same sentiment come up again and again with many of the people I work with.

Recently, I had a session with someone who had been going through a particularly difficult season. When I asked him to reflect on his year, he could only remember the difficulties—the setbacks, the stress, the moments that felt out of his control. His mind, like all of ours when we’re overwhelmed, focused almost exclusively on the pain.

What many people don’t realize is that our brains are wired with a negativity bias. When we’re stressed, anxious, or depressed, our memory becomes selective. It clings to what felt threatening or painful and quietly discards anything that felt neutral or even positive at the time.

Instead of asking him to reflect on the year, we slowed things down. We went month by month. We looked through photos, calendar events, notes, texts, emails, and old conversations—small anchors that reminded him life was still happening, even in the middle of hardship. And through that process, something shifted.

He began to remember not just what went wrong, but what went right. Not just the hard moments, but the meaningful ones. Not just the stress, but the strength it took to keep going.

It was a reminder—for both of us—that negativity bias doesn’t just shape how we feel in the present. It shapes how we remember the past. And when we don’t slow down and look carefully, we risk forgetting our own progress, resilience, and growth.

This is often the moment when pause becomes possible—when we stop rushing forward long enough to actually notice what we’ve carried and what we’ve survived.

As the year comes to a close, I want to invite you to try a different kind of reflection—one that isn’t about judging your productivity or measuring your worth.

Instead, try reflecting through the lens of compassion.

What surprised you?
What softened you?
What challenged you in a way that helped you grow?
What did you learn about your needs, your capacity, and your relationships?
What did you let go of?
What have you been carrying that you may finally be ready to set down?

If it helps, go month by month. Let photos, messages, and memories remind you of moments that didn’t feel important at the time—but mattered more than you realized.

This applies to collecting, too. Many collectors look back on a year and only remember the losses, the money spent, the cards they wish they hadn’t chased, or the moments they felt out of control. Negativity bias can make an entire year feel like a failure when it wasn’t. When we slow down, we often see something different: moments of restraint, lessons learned, connections made, boundaries tested, and growth that didn’t feel dramatic—but was real.

Let this reflection be a gentle reminder that your story is bigger than any one purchase, any one mistake, any one month, or any one season. Growth doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it shows up quietly, in the pauses you didn’t used to take and the choices you didn’t used to see.
If you’re ready to enter the new year with more grounding, insight, and emotional balance, you're always welcome to schedule a consultation with me.
#CollectorsMD
Compassion changes the way we remember—and remembering differently changes the way we move forward.

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Published December 16, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

The news that PSA’s parent company, Collectors, has acquired Beckett landed with a thud across the hobby this week. With the acquisition, Collectors now owns the three most prominent grading companies—PSA, Beckett, and SGC. For some, it was surprising. For others, it felt inevitable. And for many collectors, it immediately triggered frustration, skepticism, and concern about where all of this is headed.

At face value, consolidation isn’t automatically good or bad. Companies merge. Businesses evolve. Scale can bring efficiency, investment, and consistency. But in a hobby already grappling with questions around transparency, power, and fairness, moves like this don’t happen in a vacuum. They land on top of years of rising fees, tighter control, fewer alternatives, and a growing sense that decision-making is drifting further away from collectors themselves.

A lot of the reaction we’re seeing isn’t really about PSA, Beckett, or SGC specifically. It’s about what this represents. When grading, authentication, pricing influence, marketplaces, and media narratives increasingly sit under the same umbrellas, collectors start to wonder who the system is truly designed to serve. And when Fanatics on one side and PSA on another feel like ever-expanding superpowers, it’s understandable that people worry about monopoly dynamics—even if no single move crosses a legal line on its own.

Consolidation doesn’t just combine logos—it concentrates influence. And when influence grows faster than transparency, it naturally raises questions about balance, choice, and who ultimately holds the power.

To be clear, companies are allowed to pursue growth. Revenue matters. Sustainability matters. But trust matters too—and trust erodes when collectors feel they have fewer choices, less leverage, and limited visibility into how decisions impact them downstream. That tension is what so many people are reacting to right now.

At Collectors MD, we don’t take positions for or against specific companies. Our role isn’t to attack or defend corporate strategy. Our role is to pay attention to how these shifts feel to collectors—and how they impact behavior, stress, spending, and mental health. Because when power consolidates, pressure often trickles down. And pressure is where impulsivity, overextension, and harm tend to grow.

This moment is worth sitting with. Not reacting out of anger—but not dismissing concern either. Healthy hobbies rely on balance: competition, choice, accountability, and trust. When any one of those starts to wobble, it’s reasonable for collectors to ask questions.

And asking questions doesn’t make you anti-hobby. It makes you intentional.

#CollectorsMD
When power concentrates, clarity and care matter more than ever.

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Published December 15, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

The next generation of collectors is already here, and it’s our youth. They’re opening packs at kitchen tables, watching breaks on tablets, memorizing player stats, and absorbing hobby culture long before they fully understand money, risk, or long-term consequences. Whether we acknowledge it or not, they are learning what collecting means from the systems we allow to exist around them.

Collecting, at its core, was never meant to revolve around resale value, instant flips, or manufactured urgency. It was about curiosity. Connection. Stories. Shared moments between parents and kids, friends and siblings. But today’s hobby operates very differently. Hype cycles move fast. Comps are treated like scoreboards. Gambling-like mechanics are normalized. And there are no meaningful age gates, guardrails, or education requirements to help young collectors navigate what they’re being exposed to.

That places responsibility squarely on us—parents, guardians, collectors, hobby leaders, and anyone shaping the culture young collectors are growing up in.

What kids learn first doesn’t come from platforms or products—it comes from what we normalize, model, and explain in real time.

Kids don’t yet have the tools to distinguish collecting from speculation, or entertainment from risk. They don’t understand how scarcity is engineered, how urgency is manufactured, or how platforms and products are designed to trigger repeat spending. Without guidance, it’s easy for them to internalize the idea that value equals price, that winning matters more than meaning, and that participation requires constant spending.

Teaching the next generation to collect with intention isn’t about restricting joy—it’s about protecting it. It’s about helping them understand why they collect, not just what they collect. It’s about modeling healthy boundaries, talking openly about money, and explaining that stepping away is always an option—not a failure.

We don’t need to scare kids away from the hobby. We need to equip them. To explain risk in age-appropriate ways. To emphasize enjoyment over outcomes. To show them that collecting doesn’t require chasing, comparison, or validation from the market. And to consistently remind them that they are allowed to enjoy something without being consumed by it.

The hobby will continue to evolve. Technology will accelerate. Marketing will only become sharper, more sophisticated, and increasingly personalized—especially when it comes to reaching younger audiences. But the values we pass down can remain steady if we choose to be intentional about them.

Protecting the next generation of collectors doesn’t mean opposing the hobby. It means caring enough to shape it responsibly—so that what they inherit is something that adds to their lives, not something they have to recover from later.

#CollectorsMD
The future of the hobby depends on what we teach the next generation of collectors today.

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This month, we’re proud to feature Alex B (@alexbridgeforth) in our Collector Spotlight—an Army veteran, devoted father of four young boys, and the anchor of a Chargers-loving family.

Alex has become a vocal and consistent presence within the Collectors MD community, actively participating in the Intention group chat, our Discord, and weekly peer-support meetings where he openly shares progress, reflections, and stories from his and his boys’ shared collecting journey. For Alex, the hobby isn’t about hits, hype, or resale—it’s about connection. It’s a shared language between a father and his sons, rooted in joy, curiosity, and love for the game.

That mindset shows up clearly in how Alex engages with the hobby. The only time he’ll ever participate in a break is for a reasonable football PYT (Pick Your Team)—and it’s always the Chargers. Even then, it has to be affordable and well within his budget. There’s no chasing, no stretching, no rationalizing. If it doesn’t align, he walks away without hesitation.

What makes Alex such a powerful example of intentional collecting is that resale value and aftermarket comps are completely arbitrary to him and his boys. Their collection has purpose. It has meaning. Every card represents a moment, a memory, or a shared experience—not a price point. Through this, Alex is actively teaching his children the art of responsible spending and collecting with intention, clarity, and purpose.

He brings his boys to card shows and Chargers games. They spend several nights a week sorting their collection together, opening affordable boxes like Score or Donruss Football, talking football, laughing, and enjoying the hobby side by side. There’s no glitz. No glamor. Just presence, passion, and time spent together.

This is the beauty of what collecting can look like when we strip away the manufactured hype and revenue-driven noise that’s been embedded into the hobby. This is the foundation of the #RipResponsibly campaign. And Alex lives it—not just for himself, but for the next generation of collectors he’s raising.

THIS is what Collectors MD is all about.

Below is a glimpse into Alex’s collecting world. Be sure to show him some love—the hobby is better because of collectors like him.

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Collect With Intention. Not Compulsion.

https://collectorsmd.com/collector-spotlight/