Before I moved into my tiny house four and a half years ago, I was accustomed to living minimally as a semi-nomadic travel writer for 25 years. But building — and then moving into — my tiny house really awakened my inner minimalist.
To me, minimalism isn’t really about stuff. It’s a way of living that’s calming. It’s a way to simplify and streamline my life, while also helping me save money and live more sustainably.
My 193-square-foot tiny house has enabled me to do all this by designing a life that works for me.
Designing for a minimalist lifestyle
When I designed my tiny house, I intentionally built it with only a few storage spaces.
I created dedicated shelving for my indoor plants, my favourite books (I culled my book collection before moving in), and my bed linen (one set on the bed, the other in the wash).
I built a small alcove above my timber bench to display a few personal treasures and small artworks without cluttering up my walls and windowsills.
Courtesy of Rasa Pescud
I have built-in storage spaces under the couch, the stairs, and the floor — where two bath-sized storage bins serve as a “she-shed” for old photos, love letters, home maintenance tools, and all my camping gear.
I also designed my kitchen cabinets to accommodate all my cookware so my benches wouldn’t be cluttered with toasters, blenders, and other appliances.
When I moved into my tiny, I found that I love showering outdoors, in all weather, which allowed my indoor shower to become a bonus storage space for my guitar and a few extra books.
I’ve downsized most of my belongings
I work from home, so I don’t need to wear office clothes. I don’t wear makeup or own a hairdryer.
Living in subtropical New South Wales, Australia, also means I can wear shorts, T-shirts, sandals, and linen dresses for most of the year, which don’t require much storage space.
But I’ve adapted to my tiny life, too. For instance, when I need a new household item or appliance, I “buy small” now. I have a small kettle, a hand-held vacuum cleaner, a heater that’s half the size of a shoebox, a 32″ TV in my lounge loft, and a lime-green watering can that fits snugly under my sink. I even have a pocket dictionary on my desk.
The beauty of living in a small space is that none of these things look quaint. They look right at home.
I’ve become much tidier and more organized since living in my tiny house
I now put my clothes away neatly as soon as I take them off. I wash the dishes every night so I can wake up to a clean kitchen every morning. I return books to friends or the library the day I finish reading them. I sweep, dust, or clean almost daily.
Courtesy of Louise Southerden
And I’m constantly decluttering; I no longer keep things “just in case.” Clutter is kryptonite to minimalists.
It’s surprisingly soothing to know that everything has its place, and I rarely misplace things. In a tiny house, there are only so many places a lost item can hide.
I’m strict about what items come into my tiny house now
I’ve never been much of a shopper, but like a nightclub bouncer vetting potential guests, I’ve become fiercely discerning about every new thing entering my home.
Do I need this? Will it last? Will it justify the space it’s taking up? Anything that doesn’t spark joy or pull its weight in a practical way doesn’t make it past the door.
The other question I ask is: Will this simplify my life? Because, for me, simplicity and minimalism go hand in hand, working together in an endless positive feedback loop to clarify my life and make space for what really matters.
