For a Long Time
Most men naturally live minimalist lives. In my small studio, I have just one—not large—wardrobe that holds all my clothes and shoes. No fancy bed frame, just a mattress on the floor. I have a desk and a chair, but only because the company delivered them when everyone was working from home during Covid. (Before that, I was perfectly fine using my laptop on my lap in bed.) Oh, and I have a bean bag, a gift from a friend who got tired of having nowhere to sit when he visited. That’s how I live, and once I brought a girl home who thought it was so cool that I’m minimalist. I just laughed because every other girl had told me I was sloppy.
Letting Go
After a breakup, I started clearing out my stuff. I had an armchair my ex insisted I buy, but it was never comfortable, so I gave it away and immediately felt lighter. I did the same with flashy curtains and a patterned rug, and I never replaced them. The more I got rid of, the freer I felt—and in the end, nothing in my apartment reminded me of her.
My Home and Mind
As I cleared out clutter from my apartment, I noticed my mind felt clearer too. My home is now half empty, giving me the sense that there’s room to grow and evolve. Only now did I realize how much my stuff was weighing me down. Minimalism truly transformed my mental health.
Back to the Good
Unknowingly, I was a minimalist until my girlfriend moved in and started redecorating to her taste. At first, I was happy because I wanted her to feel at home, but soon my toothbrush and shaving foam couldn’t even fit around the sink with all her stuff. She brought in a bunch of unnecessary furniture: a bench at the foot of the bed we never sat on, three small tables around the couch that only held her scented candles, and a shelving unit full of her dust collectors. I felt pushed out of my own space. When she left and took all that stuff with her, I felt like I could finally breathe again at home. I swore I’d stay minimalist forever.
In Every Area
I’ve embraced minimalism in many parts of my life. First, I got tired of the rat race and took a six-hour job where I earned half as much—and spent half as much. I realized how much money I wasted on unnecessary things. Now I own less and have less money, but my stress is halved and my me-time has doubled.
Values
Living with less has made me appreciate everything so much more.
Lifestyle
Minimalism is a way of life. My friends say I’ve become stingy, but that’s not true. I just don’t see the point of paying a fortune for drinks in a noisy, expensive place when we can buy them for a fraction of the price at a store and enjoy them outside. Or if the weather’s bad, they come over to my place where there’s room (because I’m minimalist but have floor cushions), the lighting is cozy, and we play the music we choose.
Clothing
The biggest change has been in how I dress. I threw out about thirty T-shirts, ten worn-out pairs of shoes, and half my wardrobe. Nobody needs eight winter coats and ten sunglasses. Now I have a capsule wardrobe—I don’t have to think about what to wear, I have few clothes, and I always look stylish.
Effortlessly
After my divorce, I barely took anything from our shared life, so I felt like I was flying weightless. I didn’t want to dwell on the past, so it felt like I left it all behind—along with the bad memories and all the stuff.
Perspective
The less stuff I have, the more I see how little I actually need. There’s a saying: “A happy person doesn’t need much,” and it’s true. Now I don’t collect things or waste money on nonsense—I live minimally and watch my savings grow. Minimalism gave me freedom.
