I wasn’t ever a minimalist. I was an average kid who had small treasures in every drawer, a good size wardrobe from which I wore the same outfit day after day. Growing into a teenager I look up to my aunt who is an uncompromising person and who effortlessly trash things, I developed a habit of letting go things without a second thought. That kept me in contempt in my adolescence years. And move after move after move I could fit entire life into 2 suitcases.
Don’t get me wrong, 2 suitcases for a 24 years old moving abroad is minimal. With years and apartments I acquired more belongings. But continued thinking that I’m minimalist.
I’m not a minimalist. I told myself the lie of being a minimalist because it was trendy. I wanted everybody around me to be minimalists. The whole family. It will never happened. I need to move on and change my view on that matter.
The only person whom I can truly influence is me. I’m going to start from myself. Here we go – a minimalist approach to life.
I dare to say that all my life I was lead by a need for independence. Since childhood to adolescence to adulthood. From kindergarten to school to university to work life. From friendship to love relationships. Oh how much I hate and love that part of me!
I clearly remember how much I wanted to have a job but wasn’t allowed to. It wasn’t about money, no. It was about having my own money that I don’t need to ask for, that I don’t need to justify for. And not that I spent money left and right, no. I just needed money to “buy” my freedom and do whatever I want to. Do I want to buy a new computer, I can do it; do I want to buy pizza, I can do it. Again, it definitely doesn’t mean I wanted or I did it, it was about not needing to report or justify it. And that how I secretly got a job. Yes, I went to take a very exploitative and paying-almost-nothing job.
This feeling of earning so much that you don’t count it as an income but call it “nail money” aka “money enough to do manicure”. It means that we lived on his money and my full time job gave so little in comparison it was nothing. It was convenient in a way, but it made me feel like I’m a part of somebody and depend on the one. That started from the first job and continued till my fifth job. I’m glad this is in the past now.
Independence is not only about money aspect of life. It’s in everyday acts as well. I hate to be depended. I can open jar, cans – no need a man for that. I can clean, cook, clean pipes. I can handle kids alone(oh I don’t say I would prefer or I would like to do it all alone, oh no), I don’t need a nanny or grandparents. I can do taxes, call service providers, pay bills, schedule appointments and other adult things. If I cannot do something, I will learn how to do it by myself. Again, it doesn’t mean I want to do it all or that I refuse a help, no. But it keeps me happy to know that in any situation I can rely on myself.
And this is all me – independence. That leads to freedom. My inner freedom, my outter freedom. My trust in myself.
What does it mean right now? Oh well. Lately I started thinking more and more about independence in my work area. I would love to have some small business for myself. To not depend on a job. Thinking. I’m thinking.
Lately I began to eat more cheese. And eggs. Or rather, dishes with eggs, but pure cheese. I hate myself for that! Why do I do this? Hate it. I think to surround myself with a lot of sources of information about health benefites of vegan diet. Hope will work.
I am reading an amazing book right now. It’s about a lot of topics – racism, woman’s role, immigration, etc. At least I see it in that light. Like everything in life, a perception of a book is based on a reader’s experience and opinions. But I want to talk about another thing. The main character became a blogger and she writes about a topic that matters to her and it’s sort of a therapy for her. And that strickes me! I mean I have a blog, why not I use it as a therapy and a platform to channelise my sores? So here you go. I give it a try again.
I will have grammar errors – english is not my mother language. I will have unpopular opinions – hey, it’s my blog. I will have topics that matter to me – again, it’s my blog.
I’m not why I keep the blog since I never write here. I’m too affraid to write personal things – like about diabetes, about mom’s pain, about job and money fears, about self fulfilment, etc. I’m affraid like somebody could discover that part of me and I could be vulnerable. But could I be stronger from that instead? Can one be publicly vulnerable and personaly stronger?
After reading the latest article from Of A Certain Vintage I have so many thoughts that I want to reflect on.
I want things like they will solve something. But i believe they do, but i know they will fix a small thing that is not important. Am i afraid of having a third kid?
Self-care is often a very unbeautiful thing. It is making a spreadsheet of your debt, enforcing a morning routine, cooking yourself healthy meals, and no longer just running from your problems and calling the distraction solution. It is sweating through a workout or confronting a toxic friend, getting a second job to save money, or figuring out a way to accept yourself so that you are not constantly exhausted from trying to be everything all of the time. True self-case is not salt baths and chocolate cake. it is making the choice to build a life you don’t need to escape from, and that sometimes means doing the ugliest thing you have to do.Brianna Wiest
I’m so desperate about things, stuff. I call myself minimalist, but I buy more and more since we moved to the apartment. Like I try to avoid to stop and fix my own problems, but instead I fix my apartment environment. It is sort of a work that would be nice to do, but not necessary.
I’m afraid to look in my own eyes and say the truth. I would like to understand what is the truth that I’m avoiding like crazy and eating it out.
I’m bad with diabetes again. Second pregnancy when I give up and put the blame on doctors or external factor, but not on myself. I gain alot again and it makes me feel bad about my self control.
Even now when I’m writing this, I want to open a website and read and forget what I was writing.
I’m thinking about this self-care quote. I want to act on it, but I’m afraid of failure. All my life I’m afraid of failure. That is the truth. I don’t play games because I’m afraid to loose. I start playing only if I know I have a very high chance to win. I don’t start a project because I’m afraid to fail. And people will laugh at my pathetic attempts. I’m so afraid. I even see it right now in my daughter and I hate this part of her “why cannot she just try?”. I see myself in her and I hate this part of me.