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The mighty millennial minimalism is in small, dark places. There isn’t much in the way of stuff and it’s easy to find whatever’s lost.
From socks to stocks, there are few, but the quality is more robust than a Walmart special.
As a millennial minimalist, I’ve been in an on-again, off-again relationship with minimalism.
I started as a clutter container, was forced into minimalism, then went back to the clutter as soon as my living space expanded, and eventually came back to minimalism on my terms.
A cycle that followed my finances too. Growing up, I had little money worries as an upper-middle-class kid. Then came a dumpster fire as I tried to figure out my finances and failed multiple times. After singeing my eyebrows with failure, I did what I didn’t want to do: learned how to live within my means.
It took years to go from simple saver to competent investor, similar to the clutter-to-declutter lifestyle.
From donuts to dollars, I celebrate how far I’ve come. Initially, the shift was subtle as a 15-minute nap on a lunch break. Now with the mighty millennial minimalism on repeat, I’ve cultivated a life I love to live and live to love.
I traveled to Iceland, in winter, with a backpack and a tote bag.
All my plane tickets allowed for a checked bag, but I made the intention to take only a carry-on and personal item.
I picked this streamlined way of travel because it simplified stress while removing waiting and worrying.
Instead of waiting for the ticket counter to open, I bypassed it all and checked-in on my phone. I didn’t worry when my layover went from 40 minutes to 5, because I had my luggage with me. Instead of waiting for my checked bag to show up in the endless conveyor belt, I went straight to the FlyBus counter and got a shuttle.
I’ve decluttered my life down and don’t own any large luggage anymore to include not owning seabags from my Navy days either. My luggage consists of backpacks and carry-on suitcases.
It’s a great way to travel and not a bad way to live.
Instead of buying new, I embrace creativity like when I turned a blanket hoodie into a robe.
Recently, I bought a blanket hoodie. I’ve been watching it for many moons hoping the price would drop. I could have bought it as soon as the whim appeared, but I let whims percolate before indulging them. That’s how I save for a trip to Iceland.
The blanket hoodie suddenly dropped from $50 to $27. A discount I couldn’t ignore, even though buying it busted my budget. I was willing to spend the rest of the month on a no-spend spree to buy a furry, glow-in-the-dark unicorn blanket hoodie for almost half price.
A few months go by, when I realized my robe looked questionable with its worn through spots that may reveal more than conceal. I put a robe on a shopping list and since I shop once a month or less, it’s an entry that would linger.
I kept calm and carried on with my life, as one does after adding items to a list.
One day as I was running, I had a random thought (which happens often when running), what if I turned my blanket hoodie into a robe?!
I stuck the hoodie on the hook where I keep my robe, reminded myself this was an experiment for scientific purposes, and went about my evening. Probably, trying to read while Mr. BuLL was talking at me.
A few weeks later, I love my new addition. Along with having more hoodie time, I saved myself a few bucks too.
These are my favorite examples of the mighty millennial minimalism when I can save my wallet, time, and the planet by using when I have on-hand but with a slight perspective tilt.
I reached my savings goal of $12,000 in 12 months and gave $500 to a friend.
Yesterday, there was a WordPress writing prompt that asked, what is the best gift you’ve ever received.
As the inner wheels turned, my mind drew a blank.
As a curious sort, I shifted that question to what is the best gift I’ve given. That’s when my brain started spewing results faster than an AI chatbot.
The first result was the most recent, giving $500 to a friend.
After saving like a financial Valkyrie all year, I managed to wrangle an extra $500. I had plenty of other places to pour funding into, from an emergency fund to investing. However, as I’ve grown on my financial journey; giving has become increasingly prominent.
My minimalist values include gifting good. I gave $500 to a friend as payback for a decades-old debt. Little did I know, when I gave it to her, she was in a dire financial situation. She needed that $500 more than any of my accounts.
If being a millennial minimalist means accepting a life sentence to open space, less clutter, and helping friends in need – beam me up, Scottie, and let the adventures begin.
The mighty millennial minimalism isn’t found in closets or containers.
I’m biased about minimalism. Probably because I make less than 40K but want to live a life that feels bigger than my payday.
The mighty millennial minimums isn’t found in a landscape barren of items and people. Instead, it’s about deciding what matters and then clearing away the stress and stuff that’s weighing down what’s actually important.
For this millennial, it means having less stuff but more memories and putting people and places over clutter and chaos.