Growing up, I was surrounded by an abundance of stuff — shoes, dresses, bags, perfumes, and countless toys. Even as a child in elementary school, I had different sets of handkerchiefs, accessories, and lunchboxes in various colors. I didn’t want to repeat the same items day after day; I felt the need to have at least five sets just to pair with my school uniform. Reflecting on those days, it’s clear I was accustomed to having more than what was necessary. Often, my belongings would accumulate to the point where many items remained untouched.
Moving to Dubai around two decades ago intensified this habit. The vibrant consumer culture and endless shopping options fuelled my impulse to buy more. I became a victim of consumerism — impulsive shopping was my norm. My wardrobe overflowed into extra cupboards, and the kitchen cabinets were bursting with items I rarely used. This accumulation wasn’t just about possessions; it was about the urge to fill space and perhaps, subconsciously, my life with things.
The turning point came in 2020, with the advent of the Covid-19 pandemic. Everything turned uncertain and overwhelming. I felt a strong pull to return to the Philippines to be closer to my family, particularly my parents. Burnout from my previous job added to the desire for change. The pandemic seemed like the universe’s signal to hit pause and prioritize what mattered most — family and self-care. Preparing to leave, I packed and shipped over 60% of my belongings, hoping this act would give me the courage to start anew. However, in the end, I decided to stay in the UAE, realizing that after 15 years, I wasn’t quite ready to walk away from the life I had built.
Despite staying, that period prompted a deep shift in my mindset. I came to appreciate that I didn’t need so much stuff to be happy or fulfilled. This realization sparked my gradual transition towards minimalism, focusing on keeping only what I truly need — for both myself and my living space.
Now, five years into living minimally, I’ve experienced numerous benefits. Financial freedom stands out first. By resisting unnecessary purchases, I’ve saved more money and developed healthier budgeting habits. It’s freeing to no longer be chained to consumer impulses.
The emotional impact is significant too. Less clutter means less stress and anxiety. It’s easier to organize, easier to find things, and everything feels more manageable. This simplicity brings clarity — when my surroundings are peaceful and tidy, so is my mind.
Time is another invaluable gain. Owning fewer things means less cleaning, less shopping, and fewer hours spent managing possessions. This opens up space in my schedule to focus on hobbies, personal growth, and simply enjoying life.
Minimalism has also cultivated a greater sense of mindfulness and sustainability. I no longer buy things just for the sake of possession, reducing waste and making more intentional choices. There’s a sense of freedom and flexibility in living with less. Should I choose to finally return home someday, my minimal belongings would make the transition much easier.
Most importantly, minimalism has taught me to appreciate what I already have. Instead of constantly chasing the next new item, I find joy and value in the little things already part of my life. This shift towards contentment and gratitude has made every day richer in ways that material things never could.
