
How I Went from Clutterbug to “Do I Even Need a Couch?”
I don’t know who I think I am, but I think I am who I think I am. (Not me trying to sound like a philosopher—absolute fail.) But in all seriousness, I have always gravitated toward a minimalist lifestyle. When I officially moved out of dorm life and into my own apartment, I knew I didn’t want a lot of stuff. I wanted just the essentials—if I wasn’t using it regularly, it could sit in storage, and if it was sitting in storage too long, it probably needed to go.
Before I buy anything, I ask myself the ultimate question: How many times am I actually going to use this? If the answer is “barely,” I keep my money in my pocket. My ideal apartment? A bed, a desk, a dresser, a wardrobe, a two- or three-seater couch, a side table, and a basic kitchen setup. Even my furniture follows the “less is more” rule—simple metal frames and glass tops. And don’t even get me started on clutter. I hate stuff on surfaces. I’m what they call a butterfly clutterbug (more on that later). My general approach? If it doesn’t serve a purpose, it’s out.
And no, before you ask, this isn’t some frugal penny-pinching way of life. In fact, have you seen how expensive “minimalist” furniture is? Some of these people are charging a kidney and a leg for a chair that’s basically just four sticks and a plank. Minimalism might mean fewer things, but sometimes it also means premium things.
The Art of Minimalism: Less Stuff, More Sense
Minimalism is all about being intentional. Everything you own should serve a purpose. That’s why you won’t catch me spending $80 on a pair of heels I’ll wear once when I can get my usual Converse for the same price and wear them until they literally disintegrate (true story). Decluttering is my happy place—I love getting rid of unnecessary physical, mental, and emotional clutter.
I even take it digital. If I don’t need something on my laptop, it’s going onto a hard drive faster than you can say “storage space.” My obsession with quality over quantity also means I avoid the dreaded Dollar Store Effect—where buying cheap things ends up costing more in the long run. Would you rather spend $250 on winter boots that last ten years or $50 every winter on new boots? Do the math. I’ll wait.
And let’s talk about impulse purchases. I’ve had to master the art of mindful consumption because I know the rush of dopamine that comes with buying something just because I can. Now, I have a rule: I divide the price of an item by how many times I’ll actually use it. Try it and see how many things you suddenly don’t need anymore. (Disclaimer: Food doesn’t count. And neither do my LEGO sets, Starbucks, or Crumbl Cookies—those are rewards for surviving life. Let’s move on.)
Minimalism: The Perks of Owning Less Crap
Living like this for the last 13 years, I’ve realized minimalism comes with some serious perks.
Mental Clarity & Less Stress
Less stuff means fewer decisions, which means less stress. Clutter overwhelms me, so keeping things simple keeps my mind at ease.
Financial Freedom
Spending less on things I don’t need means more savings. And while some people go into debt to keep up with trends, I prefer prioritizing experiences over possessions.
More Time & Freedom
Fewer things to clean and organize means more time for things I actually enjoy. People tell me that’ll change when kids come along, but until then, my cleaning routine is gloriously simple.
A Surprise Environmental Benefit
I’m not exactly an eco-warrior, but I do appreciate that my lifestyle naturally leads to less waste. Turns out, not constantly buying unnecessary things is good for the planet. Who knew?
Better Relationships
When you stop focusing on material things, you start valuing experiences and connections more. I still love gifting, but now I make sure my gifts are thoughtful and actually useful.
Easier Decision-Making
A capsule wardrobe means never having to stress about what to wear. My style is simple, casual, and comfortable—mostly because my feet don’t believe in wearing heels. If I like something, I buy it in multiple colors and call it a day.
The Downsides of Owning Next to Nothing
Of course, minimalism isn’t all smooth sailing. Here are some challenges I’ve faced:
Letting Go is Hard
I want to declutter, but sometimes sentimental attachment makes it difficult. It takes me days (or weeks) to finally part with things, but I know it’s necessary.
Judgment from Others
Minimalism can seem extreme to people who don’t get it. Some think I’m being cheap or depriving myself. A friend once asked me if I only owned one pair of shoes because she had only ever seen me wear the same ones for two years. I mean…why you judging me?
Striking the Right Balance
Sometimes, I can be too strict with minimalism to the point where it feels restrictive. The goal is to simplify, not suffer.
Upfront Costs Can Be High
High-quality items last longer, but they can be expensive. My trick? I budget and save for them instead of buying cheap stuff that won’t last.
Minimalism Can Feel Repetitive
If you love changing up your decor or wardrobe frequently, minimalism might feel limiting. My mom, for example, is the complete opposite of me. She visited last year and completely redecorated my space—curtains, centrepieces, extra appliances. I was itchy. The second she left, everything went into storage.
And listen, I try to resist unnecessary purchases, but I have my weaknesses. Water bottles. I don’t know why, but I’m always browsing for a bigger, better one. I already own a 64oz (1.9L) bottle, but I’m on the hunt for an 84oz (2.5L) one. If you see one, send me a link. Thanks in advance.
So You Wanna Be a Minimalist? Here’s How
Minimalism isn’t about living like a monk—it’s about creating a life that feels light, intentional, and clutter-free. Here’s how to start:
Minimalism has different variations too—Essentialism (only the necessities), Extreme Minimalism (everything fits in a backpack), Aesthetic Minimalism (simple but stylish spaces), and Financial Minimalism (saving more, spending less). I fall somewhere between Essentialist and Aesthetic Minimalist (yes, I saw you roll your eyes).
It’s Not About Less. It’s About More.
Minimalism isn’t about deprivation—it’s about making space for what truly matters. Whether that’s mental peace, financial freedom, or just a clutter-free life, it’s a personal journey. And like everything else, the key is balance. The goal isn’t to own as little as possible, but to live well, intentionally, and happily.