The Cycle of Minimalism

Editor’s note: This is a guest post by Emily McDermott.

Long before I even knew what minimalism was, dresses were my kryptonite. One look in my closet and you could see the inordinate amount of time I spent looking for them. Scrolling ModCloth for hours, going to Ann Taylor and filling my arms with dresses to try on. I was searching for the “perfect” dresses for work and special occasions, but I was also searching for something else. To have a desire fulfilled to feel beautiful and confident, since I didn’t feel that way most of the time. The desire persisted, so I kept buying dresses that held the promise of transforming me into who I so desperately wanted to be.

Our desire to acquire and consume is complex and is impacted by culture, among other factors. Juliet Schor, a sociologist at Boston College, describes it this way: “We (Americans) have a society which is structured so that social esteem or value is connected to what we can consume. And so the inability to consume affects the kind of social value that we have. Money displayed in terms of consumer goods just becomes a measure of worth, and that’s really important to people.”

Each dress I wore provided momentary feelings of confidence, but it eventually wore off. As my desire increased to acquire more dresses, I found myself requiring more dresses to maintain the same level of happiness. I could always find an excuse to buy a new dress: it was on sale, I had an event coming up, or it had pockets. (Pockets in a dress are a big deal- trust me).

I was on a hedonic treadmill to nowhere, except an overstuffed closet and massive credit card debt. Then I discovered minimalism while going through fertility treatments in 2014 and becoming pregnant shortly thereafter. It was then that I discovered the cycle of minimalism that would change everything for me.

STEP ONE: ACQUIRE LESS

After reading Everything That Remains by The Minimalists, I started to understand how excess possessions were contributing to my discontent. Like many, I started decluttering my home as a first step in my journey. But despite my efforts, my dresses still hung like a huge security blanket at the back of the closet. Even as my belly swelled and the dresses no longer fit, I was unwilling to let go of the promise they held.

Our first son was born in May 2016, and in the sleep-deprived cloud of caring for a newborn, I didn’t think much about what I was wearing (except to occasionally check whether there was any spit-up on my shoulder). I started to question the dresses that stuffed the back of my closet, especially when I realized that I wasn’t going back to an office job anytime soon. Most of my dresses had become aspirational clutter. Instead of bringing me joy, the dresses served as a reminder of the “me who used to be.” Most of them no longer fit my body or my lifestyle as a stay-at-home mom spending most of my time playing on the floor or going to the park. The dresses that used to fill me with happiness now filled me with a wistful sadness.

I decluttered most of my dresses, keeping just a few of my favorites. I donated them to Dress for Success, happy to support other women rather than having them hang in my closet. As I decluttered dress after dress, I realized that I had exactly what I needed. It was a good feeling.

STEP TWO: REQUIRE LESS

Maybe it was the lack of time to myself to do pretty much anything, but my shopping habits completely shifted in a matter of months. I was no longer searching for the “perfect dress” that would fill a void within me. Now I knew the truth. And as I acquired less, a funny thing happened. I recognized the abundance of what I already had and was grateful for the opportunity to bless others with what I no longer needed.

I recognized that the pursuit of more was endless and exhausting. Requiring less meant that I could be content with what I had, and spend my time on energy on the things that were actually important to me. I became surprised that my baseline for “enough” kept decreasing as I realized how little I actually needed.

STEP THREE: DESIRE LESS

When you realize that the “good stuff” of life is what fills you up – love, connection, laughter, memories, experiences – the desire to fill your shopping cart and your home with stuff you don’t need goes away. You desire less of what the world tells you is important, and more of what truly aligns with your deepest held values. I’m so grateful I learned that happiness wasn’t found on the other side of “Add to Cart” or even on the other side of Ann Taylor’s front door.

Acquire less, require less, and desire less. What a beautiful cycle.

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Emily McDermott is a wife, mother, and simplicity seeker, chronicling her journey at Simple by Emmy. She loves to dance, write custom poetry, and spend time with her husband and two young sons. Emily helps moms of young children make room for what matters most in her online course Moms Overcoming Overwhelm. She is the author of the children’s book Little One. You can also find her on Instagram.

One Reply to “The Cycle of Minimalism”

  1. I really enjoyed this post Emily! I too have a weakness for dresses. I like to sew them and buy them too! But I’ve also learned that I need a lot less than I think and I’ve let go of dresses that no longer fit who I am now. I told myself every dress I let go of brings joy to someone else and gives me more room to be creative when I want to make something new. Even in sewing I take my time to make it just right because I realize I’m doing to for the process not the product.

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