Growing up, I would never have imagined that I’d one day be talking about my life as a minimalist because, at the time, the idea of choosing to live with less was completely foreign to me.
I define a minimalist as someone who chooses to be intentional with what they allow in their life. This often refers to physical stuff, but it can also refer to people, tasks, or even ideas.
I have always, always had a lot of stuff. I wasn’t raised to be particularly materialistic, but I grew up in middle-class America, and I think it was hard not to be in that environment.
Like many teenagers, I lacked self-confidence. I was an awkward Asian child in a predominantly white town, and buying trendy clothes from the local mall helped me feel like I fit in.
When I turned 18, I doubled down on my existing lifestyle. I moved to a new city for college and stubbornly decided that I wouldn’t live like a student.
I refused student housing, scoffed my head at the idea of living with roommates and instead, signed a lease on a tiny studio apartment on the edge of town. I then went on a shopping spree, maxing out my credit cards to furnish my new home.