First, let’s be honest. I love my yarn stash, possibly like I love no other possession in my home. It’s soft, it’s soothing, and it’s pretty. I add to it when I’m happy, I add to it when I’m sad. It lives in a lovely 1940s buffet, beautifully refinished to a lovely soft shine. Soft alpaca, shimmering silk, snuggly merino wool and even some rich and coarse wools live in the three drawers and two cabinets of this buffet.
I have come to a sad realization. The yarn stash is outgrowing its designated storage space. There’s a drawer of odd balls of yarn in my bedroom. It’s not a small drawer, but it only holds leftover bits. Surely that doesn’t count. There’s another drawer in my vanity with more than a few skeins of undyed fingering weight, a couple of skeins of glorious sock yarn, and a few of cotton. They don’t fit anywhere else.
So, with that I’ve decided that the stash simply can’t be allowed to grow. A yarn in-yarn out policy is taking effect in my house. I can live with the yarn stash as it stands, although perhaps some space bags are in order to bring it a bit more under control. Yarn will not be purchased unless an equivalent or near equivalent amount is used up.
I’ll pick up a few smallish plastic bins tomorrow to get the yarn out of the bedroom drawers and tucked under the yarn cabinet. It seems a better choice.
Same goes.
I can’t let mine grow with us still having at least one more military move. Yarn in, yarn out for me is going to be two out, one in. 
I can’t keep growing and it actually has to shrink a bit.
I’m doing the same as well. I only live in a small flat with my husband and children, and there simply isn’t the room. Plus, I really want to not feel guilty about buying yarn at Wonderwool Wales in April, and I will if I can’t get the stash down a bit. It’s getting there, slowly but surely!