Remember when I thought I was a minimalist? Hilarious.
As I sit here, I have tabs open for carts waiting to be checked out. After my first child was born, I resolved to just let myself go in terms of my ballooning material possessions.
I once had the perfect opportunity to downsize because I moved into a new house with my husband and basically abandoned most of my personal possessions. The convenience of it all felt like I was cheating but I embraced it anyway. I was a free woman.
However, getting pregnant and eventually birthing children in a span of 3 years only propelled material acquisition!
I know that most of it was just insecurity. I thought that if I had gear, creams, ointments, extras, just-in-cases, I would be better equipped in my parenting.
And then there was the allure of beautiful wooden toys.
The point, at first, was to buy better, therefore, buy fewer.
But then it quickly transmogrified into a collecting hobby! The shame.
And then my clothing went up 2 sizes bigger. My feet grew a size, too. So long, capsule wardrobe of my late twenties!
This sudden loss of usable and wearable possessions made me anxious. I find myself in my late thirties now building a wardrobe almost from scratch. And it isn’t cheap. I want to wear things that will last, so I am finding myself looking at items with a higher price point. I tell myself things like, “This will have to be my denim jacket ’til the day I die and I will pass it down to my kids,” to justify pricier purchases. But to be fair I don’t really want to spend money on something that I will need to throw away after two years.
Trust me when I say that I had gone through the literature and the full documentaries on fast fashion which is why I have this problem in the first place.
I suppose the one thing I can be smug about is the fact that I can still use my bags that I got back then. But I’ve had to add a larger tote to fit things that my kids need when we go out: snacks, a portable fan, dental floss, sunscreen, allergy medication… it’s supercalifragilistic.
And then there’s makeup and skincare, known to fall under the all-important category that is self-care.
We deserve the pretty things, don’t we?
One of the habits that stuck with me in the last 13 or so years was taking inventory of my clothes and all other possessions. I was once obsessed with keeping everything below a certain number. Even now as I update my spreadsheet I make little notes on how I should only have 2 pairs of tights. Anything in excess causes me shame.
I do the same for my kids. I made a family spreadsheet to keep track of everything everyone has. It just follows the template I made for myself before but it’s not up-to-date because I’m not a complete monster. I often don’t have the mojo and I only find myself updating the sheets when I become really, really anxious about unrelated things.
I can’t do much on the book front. I’ve been reading on my Kindle but I want the kids to enjoy physical books. We have a decent collection of picture and reference books and we are slowly collecting chapter books, too.
My desk situation remains wired yet minimal. This early 2011 Macbook Pro is old but it’s a real soldier.
I suppose there is ultimately no point in feeling bad about the choices I’ve made. Growing a family in a society that is forgetting to honor and practice community means that we mostly need our own things. You’re lucky if you can sell them to fund your next important purchase. I still shop from and sell to secondhand markets whenever I can, but I also don’t have the luxury of time to sift through apps and Facebook groups.
I know that some families can do material minimalism but not us right now. I guess I can do it with my own personal things—I somehow always have. It’s not for the environment but just for my own mind’s peace.