My Minimalist Experiment: Six Months In (and What I Learned)

Why I Decided to Try Minimalism

Okay, so, here’s the deal. I wasn’t exactly in a good place. My apartment was a disaster, my head was a disaster, and my bank account? Well, let’s just say I was spending way too much on stuff I didn’t even need. I was drowning in things, and it felt like those things were drowning me, too. You know that feeling? Like you’re constantly cleaning and organizing but it never stays that way? That was my life. I’d seen a few videos about minimalism online. The people in the videos looked so calm and collected, living in their sparse, perfectly organized homes. I was so skeptical. Like, who lives like that? But honestly, I was desperate. I figured I had nothing to lose. So I decided to give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen? I’d end up back where I started, just with slightly fewer possessions? Seemed worth the risk. I started reading about it, watching documentaries, the whole nine yards. The idea of owning less, of focusing on experiences rather than things, it really resonated with me. It sounded… freeing. Was I ready for it? Probably not. But I was willing to try.

The Initial Purge: Brutal Honesty Required

The first step, obviously, was getting rid of stuff. This was way harder than I thought it would be. I started with my closet. I mean, that was the obvious place, right? I had clothes I hadn’t worn in years, clothes that didn’t fit, clothes that I just didn’t like anymore. But even getting rid of those was tough. I kept thinking, “What if I need this someday?” or “I can alter this!” or “This was so expensive!” Ugh, the excuses I came up with! I even had an old bridesmaid dress from a wedding like, eight years ago. Why was I holding onto that?! I ended up using Marie Kondo’s method – holding each item and asking myself if it “sparked joy.” I know, it sounds cheesy, but honestly, it kind of worked. Anything that didn’t get a resounding “yes” went into the donation pile. Or the trash pile, depending on its condition. It was emotionally exhausting. I’m not even kidding. Then came the kitchen. Oh god, the kitchen. All those gadgets I bought thinking I’d become some amazing chef…the ice cream maker that I used once, the spiralizer that collected dust in the back of a cabinet, the panini press that I thought would revolutionize my lunch game. It was a graveyard of good intentions. I sold a bunch of stuff on Facebook Marketplace, donated a ton more, and threw out the rest. Honestly, it felt good to clear the clutter. But also, a little scary. Like, what if I regretted getting rid of something? What if I suddenly needed that ice cream maker?

The First Few Months: The Honeymoon Period

For the first few months, I was totally on board. I loved having a clean, uncluttered space. It felt so much calmer and more peaceful. I could actually find things when I needed them! My apartment felt bigger, brighter, and way less stressful. I was saving money because I wasn’t constantly buying random things. I even started enjoying cleaning! Okay, maybe “enjoying” is a strong word, but it was definitely less of a chore. It took way less time and effort to clean when there wasn’t so much stuff to move around. I remember one Saturday afternoon, I was just sitting on my couch, reading a book, and I realized how content I felt. There was no mess stressing me out, no piles of laundry looming in the corner, no unopened packages waiting to be dealt with. It was just me, my book, and a clean, peaceful space. It was amazing. I started focusing on experiences rather than things. I spent more time with friends, went on hikes, and took a pottery class. It was so much more fulfilling than buying a new gadget or another sweater I didn’t need. I felt like I was finally living my life, instead of just accumulating stuff. This minimalism thing? I thought. I’ve got this.

The Unexpected Challenges: When Minimalism Gets… Annoying

Okay, so, the honeymoon period eventually ended. Surprise, surprise. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There were definitely some challenges. The biggest one was social situations. I mean, birthdays and holidays? Ugh. People want to give you gifts! And it felt awkward to say, “No, thank you, I don’t need anything.” My family, especially, had a hard time understanding it. They’d be like, “But I got you this! Don’t you like it?” And I’d have to explain, again, that it wasn’t about not liking it, it was about trying to live with less. It was exhausting. Another challenge was replacing things when they wore out. Like, my favorite coffee mug broke. And instead of just running to the store and buying a new one, I had to really think about it. Did I *need* a new coffee mug? Could I just drink coffee out of a different mug? Eventually, I did buy a new one, but it took me a week of deliberation. I also realized that minimalism can be expensive. Like, if you want to buy fewer, higher-quality items, you have to be willing to spend more money upfront. Which can be tough when you’re trying to save money. I also felt a little… restricted. Like I couldn’t just buy something on a whim, even if I really wanted it. I had to justify every purchase, which could be kind of a buzzkill. I missed spontaneously buying things sometimes, honestly. It wasn’t all perfect simplicity. It was work.

The Six-Month Mark: What I’m Keeping, What I’m Ditching

So, six months later, where am I at? Am I a minimalist guru living in a perfectly sparse apartment? Nope. Not even close. But I have learned a lot. I’ve realized that minimalism isn’t about deprivation, it’s about intentionality. It’s about being mindful of what you bring into your life and why. I’m definitely not as hardcore as I was in the beginning. I’ve relaxed a bit. I still try to avoid buying things I don’t need, but I’m not afraid to treat myself occasionally. If I see something I really love and I know I’ll use it, I’ll buy it. But I’m much more conscious of my spending habits now. I’ve also realized that minimalism is a journey, not a destination. It’s something you have to constantly work at and adjust to your own needs and preferences. It’s not a one-size-fits-all thing. I still have a lot of stuff, probably more than a “true” minimalist would. But I have less stuff than I used to, and I’m much more mindful of what I own. And that’s enough for me. I’m also way more comfortable saying no to gifts I don’t need. Or, gently re-gifting them later, you know? Hey, nobody’s perfect.

Would I Recommend It? A Qualified Yes.

So, would I recommend trying minimalism? Yeah, I think so. But with a few caveats. Don’t go into it expecting to become some perfectly zen, uncluttered guru overnight. It takes time, effort, and a lot of self-reflection. Be prepared for challenges and setbacks. And don’t be afraid to adjust your approach as you go. It’s your journey, after all. Also, be kind to yourself. Don’t beat yourself up if you slip up and buy something you don’t need. It happens. Just learn from it and move on. And finally, remember that minimalism isn’t about deprivation, it’s about intentionality. It’s about creating a life that is more meaningful and fulfilling, not just emptier. Oh! Funny thing is, since my minimalist kick started, my sister is trying to get rid of a ton of her junk. Maybe it’s contagious! Anyway, if you’re curious, give it a try. What do you have to lose? Except, you know, maybe a few possessions. And honestly, that might be exactly what you need.