Why I’ll never be a minimalist
I am not a minimalist. I love the photos on Pinterest and I wish I could be one of those girls with the bright white room that always looks fresh and clean. A few perfectly green and healthy plants, a few books placed just right, and that satisfying look where everything is where it belongs. No mess, no clutter.
My room, which I love, is far from any of that. It’s books scattered around on different shelves and on my desk in no particular order. It’s colors that clash but are bright and happy. There are stuffed animals, way too many, in every corner of my little room. And yeah, they all have names, too. Some are from my childhood, and some are new to the family.
I’ve got a huge closet stuffed with clothes that I’ve collected from my middle school years until now. That’s one wheelchair perk, I guess. My clothes and shoes last a reeeally long time.
My door doesn’t open all the way because I have all my purses hanging on the back. I’ve been obsessed with bags since I was a kid. Like, it’s borderline a sickness. I donate a bunch every now and again, but I still always manage to have too many. From Totoro and Mickey backpacks to pastel floral shoulder bags waiting for a spring day.
I am my mother’s daughter. I like stuff.
Looking around my apartment, I know that I’m lucky. Lucky that I’ve been able to collect all my random little bits and pieces, books and outfits over the years. Sure, most of them were cheap. Found on clearance racks and last chance shelves or picked up with a coupon I carefully saved. Still, I have so many things that I definitely don’t need and I’m grateful for it.
I really do wish that I could take the advice of the trendy Instagram girls.
Don’t waste your money on stuff, travel!
Collect moments, not things!
I can’t even tell you how badly I want to travel. There are lists in my journals and hours and hours of travel vlogs in my watch history. The problem isn’t my priorities or my ambition, it’s that my disability prevents me from having the same options and opportunities as most. Even if I had the money, which I don’t. I wouldn’t have enough even if I saved every penny for years.
Planes aren’t all that wheelchair friendly, and neither are hotels. My mom can’t really travel with me because someone’s gotta help out my brother. Have you looked up the cost of hiring a nurse to travel with you? Yeah, I try not to do that anymore because it gives me anxiety.
It’s the same on a much smaller scale, too. I can’t be spontaneous with friends and take a road trip to the beach. I can’t go to just any restaurant or bar because there are more than plenty of places that aren’t accessible. Even if that weren’t the case, I don’t always have someone to drive me, anyway. Sometimes activities just aren’t fun for me like they are for abled friends or family – things like bowling or dancing or arcades.
I’m not trying to bitch, it’s just the truth. My disability means I spend a lot of time at home and it always has. It probably always will. It’s not always that bad, but I’m not going to lie. Sometimes, it freaking sucks.
When you’re lonely, feeling left out, and probably bored 6/7 days a week (and sometimes more) you try to make your space as fun and as you as you possibly can. You buy things because shopping can be a great pick me up and it’s exciting.
I don’t even care if it seems dorky or sad to say that sometimes something as simple as buying a new pack of markers or washi tape can end up being the highlight of my week. Look, if I can’t go out with friends or book a flight, I might as well fill my home with stuff that makes me happy.
I’m never going to be a minimalist because I’ve learned to find comfort in things. In cameras and paint, journals with fresh pages, and soft blankets. Stuff that might be insignificant to some people and bought with money better used elsewhere.
My home is more than where I sleep and watch tv. It’s where I spend the majority of my time even when I wish I was somewhere else – because there isn’t always somewhere else for me. I’d rather have it feel safe and cozy than clean and aesthetic. Happy and cluttered instead of empty but photographic. I don’t know, I’d just rather it seem lived in. Maybe my room will never get 100k likes for being ideal or trendy, but I’d never want it any other way.