Why Minimalism Finally Made Sense When I Became a Single Mom
When I moved into my 80-square-meter apartment, I proudly showed off the two closets it came with. In the Middle East, closets don’t come with the apartment — you have to buy them yourself.
I soon realized that in a small apartment — especially with tiny humans constantly growing out of toys and clothes — it was very easy to accumulate too many things.
I also learned that having more open space made me happier — and I wanted to protect it.
My biggest realization, though, came later.
Minimalism as a single mom became possible because I was the only adult making decisions.
The Day I Realized I Had 30 Towels
My turning point happened when a friend came over, who had helped me move and happens to be an organizer. She mentioned once again that I had too many linens. I began to see that if I got rid of the extra linens, I could do a lot of other things with the space. And – more importantly – someone else could use them.
I think I had 20 or 30 standard-size towels for myself and a two-year-old. And my two-year old had his own little kiddie towels I had received as gifts.
Instead of asking how I could store more towels, I asked a different question: How many towels do we actually need?” In doing so, I found this great blog post “How Many Towels Do I Need?” by Rose Lounsbury about minimalism. (Spoiler alert: The answer in my case was 4. I needed one towel for each of us and one spare).
I soon started reading about minimalism. My organizer friend was into Marie Kondo and what sparks joy, but like the Minimal Mom, I found this too subjective to implement. Her approach: Less inventory. What you have you use. Or lose.
As my son grew, I realized he preferred ordinary household objects to most of the toys I bought. I saw that he needed a few basic, sturdy toys but was mostly just happy to play outside with other kids (and I moved to an area where kids actually play outside unsupervised).
Seeing My Parents’ House Changed Everything
I gave away some stuff and then visited my parents in a suburb. They live in a typical American suburb with an attic, a basement, and a house with four bedrooms upstairs and three large rooms on the ground floor.
Over decades they had accumulated an enormous amount of stuff.
I felt like all my parents’ stuff was weighing them down. And it had been weighing them down for a long time.I wanted to help them declutter and downsize.
That’s when I realized I didn’t want my own home to look like this someday. I wanted to be free of all of that.
But decluttering that house was a full-time job, and I only had the time and energy to do a little bit here and there. Every room I went into made me feel like “ugh, this is so much work!”
I also started to think about why I felt so relaxed when we went to hotel rooms. They were empty, uncluttered, and gave me a chance to take and organize the bare essentials.
So I came home from that vacation even more focused on a decluttering goal of eliminating one of my biggest closets in the living room. It took a while, but I said goodbye to it about a month ago.
Now my son rides his little indoor scooter across the living room floor.
I don’t miss the closet, or anything that was in it. I’m simply happy we have more space.
The Real Reason We Buy Things
Buying things gives the brain a quick dopamine hit. Over the years I started to realize that I bought or acquired things to make me feel good. And as a marketer by profession, I learned that you aren’t actually buying the object, but the dream the object gives you (e.g., a clean house, a comfortable and leisurely day, the idea of free time for a hobby, etc).
Before I had kids I would buy stuff just without thinking much about it. I bought four or five different hoodies in different colors, which would have maybe been OK if that was the only thing I wore to keep myself warm. But I also had scarves, sweaters, pullover sweaters, and jackets. Not to mention hats.
I bought gadgets for my kitchen. They were little, but they took up space and I typically used them only a few times.
I bought things that looked pretty or were on sale or that I thought I would use “one day.”
But you know what? As a single mom, I realized it and didn’t have to convince someone else to share my values. And now without a partner I could be as frugal as I wanted.
Why Minimalism as a Single Mom Is Easier
One unexpected advantage of single motherhood is that I didn’t have to negotiate my values with another adult. If I wanted to live with less, I could simply decide to do it.
I could become very intentional about where I put my money – especially after I decided to put my son in daycare (and ended up paying it twice due to the pandemic).
I also realized that many things need to be maintained—and I wasn’t very good at that.
And some “basic” items were really just optional.
So I decided to stop purchasing those items.
A car? I crashed it in a small accident and never replaced it.
A microwave? I let liquids spill over and it shorted out. I didn’t replace it.
A dryer for clothes? I could air dry everything in the Middle East sun.
Choosing Less in a World That Sells More
Since becoming a mother, I’ve watched consumer culture accelerate. Social media constantly promotes new trends, new products, and new things our children supposedly need.
But raising children on one income forces you to ask a different question.
What do we actually need?
Not what advertisers say. Not what other parents are buying. Just what truly improves our lives.
Minimalism as a single mom wasn’t something I adopted because it was fashionable. It happened because space was limited, money was limited, and time was limited.
But in that process I discovered something surprising.
Having less stuff didn’t feel like a sacrifice.
It felt like freedom. And as a single mom by choice, it was a lifestyle I could fully embrace on my own terms.