Midlife Minimalist Home: How Downsizing My Stuff Uplifted My Spirit

There’s a moment that hits many of us women in midlife: when the house gets too quiet, the drawers too full, and the heart whispers: It’s time.

Time to let go.
Time to release.
Time to create space—for beauty, for breathing, for becoming.

For me, that moment arrived gently, but clearly. My son had just graduated high school, and my daughter was already forging her path. I looked around my home and felt the weight of too much stuff. Things I wasn’t using. Things I didn’t love. Things that were starting to feel like they were taking up more energy than they gave.

What really struck me was how good it felt to be in other people’s homes or businesses that had space between things. There was clarity there. Calm. Room to breathe.

But creating that feeling in my own home wasn’t easy. I’ve always been a lover of beauty, of meaning, of keeping the special things. Being tied to a sense of lack in my family lineage didn’t help either—my Depression-era grandfather used to hide cash around the house. When he passed, we found $20 bills and coins behind pictures and under rugs. That scarcity mindset stuck with me.

And yes, even though I’m deeply spiritual and get it that joy doesn’t come from stuff, I’ve often joked that one of my favorite hobbies was shopping. My inner hunter-gatherer just loves the thrill of the find. But if we only accumulate and never shed, we end up overwhelmed—drowning in our own past.

The Books That Shifted Me

A few months ago, I felt the inner nudge: It’s time to downsize. Maybe store a few things. Maybe head south for the winter.

So I went to the library and checked out two books:

• The More of Less by Joshua Becker

• Nobody Wants Your Sh*t: The Art of Decluttering Before You Die* by Messie Condo

Yes, the titles made me laugh—but the messages landed deeply.

One afternoon, as I paused mid-read, I looked around my living room. I started right then and there—taking down things I no longer needed and putting them into boxes. It felt good. Freeing. Like I was doing more than cleaning—I was reclaiming myself.

My Three-Question Test

From those books, I learned to ask myself:

1. Do I love it?

2. Do I use it?

3. Will I use it soon?

If not, it was time to let it go.

At first, I focused on the least emotional stuff—clothes, shoes, scarves, jewelry. I went deeper: ceremonial items, old notebooks, dusty “gift box” items waiting for the right person to give them to. I realized how much I’d held onto because of guilt:
It cost a lot.
Someone gave it to me.
Maybe I’ll need it again.

But those weren’t reasons to keep things that didn’t feed me anymore.

The Surprise of Letting Go

There were some “ouch” moments. Did I really get rid of that? Yep, I did. But I reminded myself: someone else is probably loving it now.

Some of it went into our town’s beloved free box. Nicer things I sold at a 4th of July booth or through local consignment. I even put a few on Marketplace. In just a couple weeks, I made over $1,000! That money is going toward my much-needed roof repair (though I still need more to get there).

But even more satisfying? The freedom.

I could open drawers without a tug-of-war.
I could find things.
I felt lighter. Clearer.

And the joy of seeing someone light up from receiving something I let go of—that was healing. It felt like the energy was moving again.

The Sacred and the Sentimental

Not everything had to go. In fact, the things I loved most—especially sentimental items—I didn’t want to hide in a box somewhere.

I realized: the most sacred keepsakes deserve a place where I can see them. Feel them. Smile when I pass by.

A photo that makes me laugh.
A handmade piece of art from my kids.
A ceremonial item I’d like to see more frequently.

It’s not about stripping your space bare. It’s about making it meaningful.

Too often, we pack up our memories and stash them in the attic—never to be seen again. Why not display what really matters? Let it bring beauty to your daily life.

What’s Really Behind It All?

This journey made me wonder: Why did I accumulate so much in the first place?

Fear? Sentiment? Identity?
Yes, and more.

I began to see that holding on was, in many ways, an attempt to protect something—my sense of worth, security, memory, control.

But I don’t want to live in survival mode anymore.
I don’t want to feel poor, energetically or emotionally.

And I definitely don’t want to leave my kids to sort through a mountain of stuff one day. (Pro tip: don’t assume your children want your things—ask them! Most don’t.)

Whether you look at it through common sense or design systems like feng shui or vastu, clutter clogs the energy of a home. It creates decision fatigue. It makes it harder to hear yourself think. When we clear space, we make room for flow. For joy. For the next chapter.

A Midlife Minimalist’s Guide to Dismantling with Grace

Here’s what helped me—and might help you too:

• Start where it’s easy.
  Tackle areas with low emotional charge: junk drawers, old makeup, random clothing.

• Use the 3-question test.
  Love it? Use it? Will use it soon? If not, let it go.

• Honor your inner hunter-gatherer.
  Give her new things to seek: experiences, creativity, connection, beauty.

• Let go of guilt.
  Say thank you. Take a photo if needed. Then release.

• Display what matters.
  Let your keepsakes live where you can see and enjoy them.

• Give it new life.
  Donate, sell, gift. Circulation is sacred.

• Ask your children what they actually want.
  Chances are, it’s not the antique lamp or bin of saved birthday cards.

• Don’t try to do it all at once.
  This is a process. Each layer gets easier.

The Wildness Beneath It All

Letting go is spiritual work.
It’s ancestral healing.
It’s reclaiming sovereignty over your space—and your story.

I feel like I’m reclaiming me—the woman emerging from layers of old dreams, outdated roles, and inherited expectations.

She’s still wild. Still wise. Still here.

And she doesn’t need a storage unit to carry it all.