Becoming A Minimalist: Deciding To Let Go


Hey everyone! I'm going a little off-base with this post (and hopefully a series of others to come). However, the main reason why I do write is because I want to help other people in their lives, so I wanted to share my story with all of you. This is something I've been wanting to write about for a long time, and it has helped me discover a lot about myself and the world we live in. I wanted to share my experiences leading up to becoming a minimalist. While my story may be uniquely mine, I hope that all of you can relate to it in some way.


I came from relatively good circumstances. I grew up around country clubs and villas; I've travelled and lived abroad; I've even had the privilege of attending a very reputable school. My family wasn't extensively rich, but we were comfortable enough to enjoy these luxuries. Even so, I was often unhappy. 

I remember as a young kid, I would be with my grandmother and hear her comment, "Oh, look at these people. They're so lucky. They can afford all these things." And I would think to myself, "We don't have those things, does that mean that we're unlucky? How come we can't be lucky like them?"

As I grew older I became envious of other people that seemed to be happier than I was because they could afford more. I would envy them for the things that they owned. Even though we lived comfortably, I grew up with the influence of discontent in what I had, even if to another person, it would be more than enough.

We went through financial trouble right as I was graduating high school and funds were tight for a very long time. So when I started earning, I was so thrilled by the idea that I could afford everything I wanted without feeling like I'd burden my family with extra costs. I became addicted to the rush of buying something new and being able to show it off. I enjoyed it so much, instead of saving, I spent so much of my time and effort trying to earn money so I could buy lots of things. Looking back now, I realize that the retail therapy was really just a distraction from my dissatisfaction of the life I was living.

By the end of my first year as a working adult (and by adult, I meant the ripe old age of 18), I had spent nearly all my money on a room full of things I thought would make me content, but only left me unsatisfied because I couldn't afford more.

I lived in a mess. I was a mess. I hated that I had so much stuff and nowhere to put it and I was too attached to throw anything out. On a lighter note, after all my years of hoarding I had become an organizational master. I had begun to accumulate more things to organize the clutter that is my life. I spent so much time cleaning and reorganizing that it consumed me. 

One day, as I was into my umpteenth attempt at cleaning (or making more of a mess than ever), I had taken all my possessions and literally strewn them out on the floor. Which, mind you, because of the sheer volume of stuff I've accumulated, took a lot of effort. By the time I was done, I couldn't even see my floor. I was looking at things I never used and things I didn't even realize I had, and I remember thinking to myself, "Oh my god. What am I doing with my life."

I was so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of my possessions. I realized that most of the things I owned, I didn't even like and didn't reflect who I was as a person. More than anything else, I was so ashamed of what I had done. My family and I were struggling to make ends meet, and lo and behold, I had a floor full of wasted income.

In these sorts of situations, I tend to question my life choices. Which is what most people should do before actually making their life choices. I had to ask myself some tough questions: Was I really happy? What was so important about these material things that I need to have them in my life? Did owning any of these things actually bring joy to my life? What do I actually find important enough to spend so much time and effort on? What actually makes me happy?

I am the most fulfilled when I am bringing joy to others. I'm the happiest when I'm accepting of myself. The most important things in my life are the people I care about.

Epiphany struck as if a million lightning bolts shot up in my brain. As cheesy and cliche as it seems, the most important things in life aren't things. No matter how much stuff I accumulated, it didn't make me feel any better about who I was as a person. I was still me, with just more stuff. I didn't feel luckier than anyone else. I felt trapped by the cycle of wanting to earn more so I could afford more, and ultimately never being satisfied. I hated having so much and knowing someone else on this earth had less than nothing.

Which is why I made the decision to let go. Let go of the stuff; the things that I don't need in my life. I decided that my happiness doesn't lie in the things that I own, but the experiences I have, and the people I'm with. Owning all these things I bought were just filling a void, to curb my insecurities. I would never be truly happy being surrounded by clutter, drowning in debt, and trying to impress others with how much I could fill my house with things that don't add value in my life.

It wasn't easy, it still isn't. But to have the knowledge that I'm not bound by the things I own, and to not be defined by the amount of stuff I have; to know that I am liberated and free to live a more meaningful life. That's what's more important. Not things.


If you liked this and want to hear more, let me know! Have you experienced something similar? Are you a minimalist or want to become one? Feel free to share in the comments! I'll go back to the product reviews and tutorials soon. :) thanks! ❤️💄

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  1. Thanks for this! I'm also going through a similar process, I thought I could totally relate. :)

  2. Keep going through this path, Aria. I heard it's a great one. They say the road starts of bumpy but it gets smoother further down. Just keep at it! I'm right behind you! - Markee