Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.
Today, Sharity tells us how her house was (literally) cracking apart beneath her—and how it inspired her to live a lighter, freer, more minimalist life.
Sharity writes:
I don’t recall the exact moment when I discovered minimalism, but I’ve been reading about it and working on it for myself for at least a couple of years now.
I grew up with a mentally ill mother, and it wasn’t until the popularity of shows like Hoarders that I realized my mom was a hoarder. Correction: HOARDER. (She passed away in 1995 and cleaning out her house was an incredible experience, but it still didn’t quite make me a minimalist.)
When I moved out to go to college (ok, escaped) I took everything with me to my dorm room. Everything. My dorm room was packed and chock full of stuff that I now realize I did. not. need. There was a girl a couple of doors down from me, and I remember looking into her room more than once and being amazed at how neat and orderly it was. She had almost nothing. Her bed, a desk. Eight magazine covers of her favorite models (she was tall and gorgeous and could have been one) above her bed and all her clothes in the closet. Again, in retrospect, I’m sure she did better in school than I did because she could most likely focus better than I ever could in all my mess.
My mother passed away about a year after I graduated college. It was a tough experience; she had cancer and I quit my job and moved back home to help care for her the last 5 1/2 months of her life. Most of my stuff wound up in my friends basement, there certainly wasn’t anywhere to put it at my moms. Once the estate settled, I decided I wanted a new life and moved to a different state. I got rid of a lot because I couldn’t afford to move it. I had a small apartment with very little in it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I really loved the simplicity of that little place.
Fast forward some years and a couple of moves to new states, and I thought I was ready to settle. My (now) husband and I bought a house. And we filled it up. Then, about two years in, we found out our house had a serious structural problem in the form of a slow subsidence sinkhole under it. Insurance denied our claim, and it took 9 years to work our way through the system and get the house situation resolved. Nine years of living in a house that is slowly cracking apart underneath you will change your perspective on a lot of things. (We couldn’t afford to move out of it during the process because if we stopped paying our mortgage then our lawsuit would have gone away.)
I am proud to say we are now almost at 1 year of crackhouse-free living. With our hard-fought for insurance settlement we bought a much smaller house that will be paid for in two years or less. I purged an incredible amount of stuff before we moved from 1700 square feet to 720 square feet and we still had a garage packed to the rafters when we first moved in. I consistently work at reducing our possessions, reading and learning about leading a simpler life and stress free living. My husband has made it clear he is unwilling to go any smaller, so I can forget having a tiny house, (darn it) but I am continually amazed at how lighter and freer life has become. I’m not done yet; we’ve cleared a lot of debt and a lot of crap. My goals are to be able to work less, travel more and enjoy my down time instead of spending it cleaning or yes even de-cluttering. Some projects are harder than others. I love books, but clearing out over 1000 books (and going digital) has proven to be easier than letting go of some favorite clothes that are no longer age or lifestyle appropriate.
I’m a work in progress looking forward to the second half of my life as an adventure, not a a struggle to maintain a bunch of things that don’t matter anyway.
{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}
What a wonderful account, Sharity – albeit one tinged with sadness. I also recall clearing my mother’s possessions after she died and being shocked at just how much stuff there was… and stuff that had never been used, worn, etc. All those possessions, and none you can take with you.
I can’t imagine living above a sinkhole, even a reallllly slow one. You’re a braver soul than I.
And as for your journey, good on you for learning from your mistakes – and the mistakes of your upbringing. Mentally ill parents of the hoarding variety fail to respect boundaries and limits, and fail further in teaching their children how to set proper boundaries and limits. Glad to hear you’ve learned to set your own. Untangling the knots of mentally ill “upbringing” is a difficult task. Best of luck to you.
Thank you for sharing your story…I’ll confess I do enjoy watching the hoarder TV shows (I suppose it’s a bit like slowing down to gawk at an accident), but I can’t imagine the hardship of growing up in a hoarded house. So glad you were able to get to a much better place in your life and are enjoying the simplicity and beauty of having less :)
Very inspiring story!
Thank you for sharing your story!
I too took everything with me when I went to college. I then struggled with having too many belongings my entire time there. A friend down the hall arrived from Scotland and her half of her dorm room was pure minimalism. Her belongings were stacked neatly on her desk or tucked away in drawers or the one closet, and I envied her. It was my first glimpse into someone who chose to live minimally. I’m inspired by your downsizing from 1700 square feet to 700!
I would have been you, but aspiring to be your friend from Scotland.
Now I realize just how much stuff drains your energy….
Thank you for sharing your story, Sharity! I cannot imagine what it must have been like to spend 9 years in the legal mill to get your home sorted out – that must have been utterly exhausting. Well done for getting through it, and then downsizing to a smaller home (moving house can also be a very stressful process, even when you don’t have many possessions). My grandparents (and my grandmother’s 8 siblings) were all hoarders, not of the buying-lots-of-stuff-all-the-time type but of the having-lived-through-a-war-and-learnt-never-to-get-rid-of-anything-that-might-come-in-useful-one-day type. Luckily, my parents learned from dealing with all their stuff and have downsized already. I’ve taken it all a step further – everything I own can fit into my van (and it’s not even a long wheel base one). The ‘loft flatlet’ I now live in is only 30 m2 /323 square feet (with sloping ceilings on three sides). I absolutely love how cozy and snug it feels!
You are brave, Sharity. I couldn’t have slept one wink in that house. Perseverance paid off, you ought to be proud.
“I’m a work in progress looking forward to the second half of my life as an adventure, not a a struggle to maintain a bunch of things that don’t matter anyway.”
Beautifully said.
Great story, I think i will go and do a bit of decluttering after reading that.
Thanks for sharing! It’s amazing how a difficult situation–such as having a house cracking apart–can help brings things into perspective. Good for you, for making the changes you have. Keep it up!
My mother was a hoarder when I was growing up. I realize now that my dad kept it out of the living room, dining room and kitchen. When he died, my mother went about filling every space and we cleaned her out several times. She married again and he didn’t realize she could hoard papers into mountains. We’ve been cleaning again because mom moved into a nursing home. It’s sad but it runs in our family. There are cousins who have the gene too young to have been through the Depression. I’m glad it’s a recognized mental illness now. Maybe a lot of families will get help early.
My mom was trying to hoard in her room in a nursing home. She had packets of sugar, salt, tea bags and of course papers. The doctor visited and told the staff to clean out her cabinets.
Every time I visit I ask her what she wants me to recycle for her. I bring her 2 tea bags and a puzzle when I visit every few days. She wants an apartment so she can fill it up with her junk.
I visited my mom last night and took nothing but my cel phone. I showed her all the latest Facebook postings of her 7 great grandchildren. I took out a bunch of papers and some books she had finished reading. She still has a stack of magazines and newspapers she is holding onto. I tried again to thin out her clothes but got nowhere.
When we cleared out my Mom’s condo, we threw out at least 80 boxes of books and magazines because they smelled of mildew. I lost my voice as we cleared out more. At least my mom had a cleaning lady who moved the boxes and piles and washed the floors and vacuumed. It could have been worse. She lived in Miami and never ran the Air conditioning. I have become the executor of Mom’s estate and regret that she lost so much money on scams and get rich quick schemes. However, she would never admit she had poor judgment or a mental problem. All of my siblings have suffered due to her lack of parenting skills. I have 2 ash trays I remember from growing up. My sister has some silver spoons. My one brother has 2 statuettes and my dad’s debate medals and my other brother has some jewelry. She spent most of her money on clothing and garbage.
My daughter moved back with us after 20 years on her own. She has too much stuff. We have given away, recycled, sold, or moved probably 75% of what she had and there is still way too much. Thousands of pens. Boxes and boxes of greeting cards. Cosmetics filling bins and bins. More CD’s than my husband and I own together. You get the idea. I find it very stressful.