So here’s the thing. I thought minimalism for beginners was about shaving your head, living in a white box, and eating lentils out of the same bowl every night. Like some kind of modern monk lifestyle. And honestly? That sounded… miserable.
But then my closet door literally wouldn’t close because I owned (and I counted) 14 pairs of jeans. Fourteen. And the wildest part? I wore the same two pairs every week. That was my wake-up call. I didn’t need to be a monk—I just needed to stop drowning in stuff.
Minimalism isn’t about living with nothing. It’s about finally having room for the things you actually care about. And spoiler alert: you don’t need to throw out your favorite coffee mug (unless it’s cracked and cutting your lip—then, yeah, let it go).
Okay, But What Is Minimalism Really?
Here’s my non-Google definition: minimalism is choosing less stuff so you can focus on what matters. That’s it. No rules about how many shirts you should own or whether you’re allowed to buy holiday decorations.
If your house feels like a storage unit and your brain feels like a browser with 87 tabs open, minimalism might just be the reset button you’re looking for.
Start Small. No, Smaller.
The mistake I made? I tried to declutter my entire house in one weekend. By Saturday night, I was buried under a mountain of old birthday cards, broken hangers, and mismatched Tupperware lids. I ugly-cried on my kitchen floor and ordered pizza.
So yeah—don’t do that. Start tiny. Like:
- Clean out one junk drawer.
- Delete 20 emails from your inbox.
- Say goodbye to the socks with holes (why do we keep these??).
You’ll get a little win, and it’ll snowball. Like, “hey, I tackled that drawer—maybe tomorrow I’ll tackle the closet.”
Ask the Annoying Question
Every minimalist guru tells you to ask, “Does this spark joy?” I’ll be real with you—that never worked for me. My old college hoodie sparks joy, but it also smells like dorm pizza. So I came up with my own questions:
- Do I actually use this?
- Would I buy it again if I didn’t already own it?
- Is it secretly just guilt holding me hostage? (Looking at you, wedding gift pasta maker.)
If the answer’s no… it’s time to say goodbye. Donate it, recycle it, or toss it if it’s truly beyond saving.
Side tangent: You ever keep something because you might need it someday? Like, the extra remote nobody knows what it goes to? Yeah, I finally threw mine out. Guess what? Haven’t missed it once.
Step 3: One in, One Out
This one’s a lifesaver. Anytime I bring something new in (like a sweater or a mug), something old has to go. It keeps the balance. Otherwise, I’d end up right back at 14 pairs of jeans.
Declutter the Invisible Stuff Too
Minimalism isn’t just about physical junk. It’s the apps on your phone, the subscriptions you forgot you’re paying for (hi, streaming service #4), the social media accounts that make you feel like crap.
The day I deleted 3 shopping apps from my phone? Felt like I got half my brain back. I also canceled a “free trial” I’d been paying for accidentally for six months.
Digital clutter counts. And it sneaks up on you.
Make Your Space Work For You
Here’s where it gets fun. Minimalism doesn’t have to look sterile or cold. I thought it did—like I’d have to say goodbye to cozy blankets and fairy lights. But nope.
The trick? Keep the cozy stuff, just… less of it. Instead of 12 throw pillows, maybe 3. Instead of a shelf of random knickknacks, one framed photo and a candle.
Your space should feel like you, not like a catalog.
Give Yourself Permission to Mess Up
This one’s huge. Minimalism is not about being perfect. It’s about making choices that feel lighter. I’ve bought stuff I regretted and kept things I didn’t need. I’ve also gotten rid of something and then… yeah, ended up missing it later. (RIP, black leather jacket.)
But that’s part of it. You don’t fail because you slipped. You just adjust. Minimalism isn’t a finish line—it’s a practice.
My “Beginner Minimalist” Cheat Sheet
Okay, here’s the Cliff Notes version I wish someone had handed me:
- Start super small. Junk drawer, sock bin, one corner.
- Ask better questions. Not just joy—use, love, regret.
- One in, one out. No exceptions.
- Declutter digital too. Apps, emails, subscriptions.
- Make cozy intentional. Less stuff, more warmth.
- Don’t chase perfect. It’s not a test.
The Weird Side Effects Nobody Warned Me About Minimalism for Beginners
- I spend less time cleaning. (Less junk = less dusting. Bless.)
- I save money because I think twice before buying.
- My brain feels… quieter. Like I turned down the static.
- I’ve actually learned what I really like. (Turns out, neutral colors and big windows, not neon wall art.)
Oh, and my closet door? It closes now. That alone was worth it.
Real Talk: It’s Not About the Stuff: Minimalism for Beginners
At the end of the day, minimalism isn’t really about stuff—it’s about freedom. Freedom from clutter. From guilt. From spending Saturday afternoons reorganizing junk you don’t even care about.
If you’re curious about minimalism for beginners, don’t overthink it. Just start small. One drawer. One corner. One step.
And then keep going until your house feels like a place you want to be, not a storage unit you pay rent on.
Suggested Outbound Links:
- A fun piece on travel-inspired movies to pair with these books
- A quirky personal blog about [accidentally booking the wrong flight](https://www.the Everywhereist.com/)
