Labels
Written by on

Reflecting on 2025: Five Years as Minimalists

Five years ago, my husband and I became minimalists. 

It was a clear path to take amongst so much uncertainty as unemployed newlyweds navigating the pandemic. 

Back then, minimalism was visible and measurable with fewer things equaling less stress. 

But five years in, we’ve learned how our minimalist views have adapted and grown as our lives continue to change. 

2025 became a year of noticing where we, though mostly I, had drifted from that initial minimalist mindset focused on physical clutter and gently realigning it physically, mentally, and financially. 

Not through dramatic cuts or rigid rules, but through honest conversations about how we want to live day to day. 

This year reminded me that minimalism is about making room for what matters, and not just with decluttering the physical items we own. 

It's been about being intentional with the money we earn and, for me specifically, revisiting old dreams with the time that minimalism offers. 

Redefining Work (and Letting Go of the Plan)

When I graduated from university, I imagined going straight into a high-paying tech job and staying there for years.

Instead, the pandemic hit, and minimalism found my husband and me during our unemployed newlyweds era.

Through minimalism, I became honest with myself about what I actually wanted from work: time and space to write.

Although I eventually did work in tech, the roles I landed in weren’t the right fit. 

When I was laid off from my last tech role, I found myself drawn back to customer service since I have always loved it, and decided to seek part-time hours so I could focus on writing.

But choosing a role that didn’t “require” my education stirred feelings of inadequacy, even though customer service is demanding, skilled work. 

While I loved my new job, part of me initially felt like I had failed, so I found myself sort of compensating by throwing myself into the work and taking on more hours than I had planned. 

Through the work, I found true gratification in helping people and making them smile. 

Writing still happened, but it wasn't the priority I had hoped it would be, and I fell into the very anti-minimalist mindset of I'll find time for it someday. 

That changed this past year. 

When circumstances shifted, and I left my job, I knew that I would be unemployed for some yet-to-be-determined amount of time, and instead of panicking, I treated writing like my job. 

While I was (thankfully) only unemployed for a couple of weeks, that commitment stuck. 

I started my new part-time role in October, and I’m writing more than I have in years. 

The big shift has been refocusing on minimalism (not waiting for someday), and acknowledging that I am allowed to love my job, even if it's not the plan I once had. 

This new plan is allowing me to pursue my writing dreams, so it sounds like the better plan right now anyway. 

Money as a Tool, Not a Rulebook

Discovering the FIRE (financial independence, retire early) movement helped me reconnect with intentionality around spending. 

It gave language to something I had felt but hadn’t fully put into words: money is a tool to buy freedom, not just comfort.

That reframing was powerful. 

It helped me notice the lifestyle creep my husband and I have experienced over the years. 

But I have to remind myself that, for us, this reframing to get us back on track doesn't mean optimizing every dollar we spend. 

Yes, little costs add up, but it's the awareness that matters to us. 

We have found a new clarity with focusing on the big picture (how we want to live, work, and create), and defining more concrete goals for what we are saving our money for in the future. 

We don't want to budget every small joy out of existence, but catching the lifestyle creep made us notice how our marker for "luxury" had shifted over the years. 

Minimalism and the FIRE movement are both, at their core, about being in control of your time and then putting that time towards what actually matters most to you. 

From Passive Consumption to Intentional Enjoyment

One of the clearest signals that I was rebalancing this year was how I spent my free time.

I read over 100 books in 2025. 



Before that, I was reading 70–80 books a year since getting back into reading as an adult, so while the jump isn't necessarily wild, something shifted this year.

Part of it was that streaming services have become harder to mooch, and it turns out that when my husband and I have to pay for them, we mostly avoid them. 

The result has been me watching a lot less TV and filling that time with reading. 

I still love television. 

I always will. 

But I also know how easily it can become mindless consumption like social media, which I continue to manage by not having it on my phone. 

So TV got harder to watch, social media is less convenient to access, but with apps like Libby, it is so easy (and free) to access thousands of books. 

So, I have been turning more and more to books and discovering other hobbies along the way. 

Learning to Make and Mend

A dream I finally honoured this year was learning how to sew. 

Ever since watching That’s So Raven growing up, I’ve wanted to make my own clothes. 

For years, it lived in that dreaded someday, but with all the refocusing of my minimalist mindset, I put myself out there and took some beginner sewing classes. 

I found a burst of joy not just in creative expression, but in practical creation. 

Learning how clothes are constructed has changed my relationship with what I wear, too, since I can better appreciate what goes into making them. 

I can also easily mend things now that I own a sewing machine. 

Going from knowing nothing about sewing to something was the hardest step, and I now see a path to follow for learning how to make clothing myself. 

Minimalism led me here. 

Not through restriction (sewing has had some definite upfront costs and brings in some clutter with the materials), but through curiosity and being honest with myself about what I actually want.

Physical decluttering offered me the space needed for the hobby in our apartment

Minimalism as a mental shift helped me take the step to learn something new. 

And the FIRE mindset helps me spend intentionally with things like taking classes before investing in an at-home setup for sewing. 

Saying the Dreams Out Loud

This year, I shared a big, vulnerable goal publicly: I want to publish a romance novel before I turn 35.

I also began sharing my poetry and fiction publicly, something I had been holding close and private for a long time.

Minimalism isn’t just about having less clutter in your space.

It's about how decluttering your life (physically, mentally, financially, digitally, etc.) opens yourself up to being able to do what you actually want to do with your time and energy. 

By naming my goal, I have created some accountability, but I have also given myself permission to talk about my goals as I chase them. 

What Minimalism Means to Me Now

After five years, minimalism looks different from what it did at the beginning.

It’s less about what we own and more about what we choose to prioritize.

It’s choosing reading over scrolling.

Creation over consumption.

Chasing goals out loud rather than waiting for someday. 

Most importantly, it’s remembering that minimalism isn’t a finish line but a lifestyle practice. 

As we move into the next year, we're not aiming to just own less stuff. 

We are focusing on what matters to us, on purpose, and honouring the hopes and dreams of the people we continue to grow into. 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Share your thoughts :)