How I Got Here

My path to minimalism didn’t start with Marie Kondo’s Netflix series (though seriously, how good is it?) or my desire for a perfectly curated capsule wardrobe. It started as a coping mechanism.

After having our son, Noah, in 2015, I returned to my full-time job in San Francisco. Within months, everything unraveled. I was unhappy at work, lost my dad to cancer, and Noah spent a week hospitalized with pneumonia while on a family trip in Ireland. It was my first attempt at balancing a career, life, and motherhood—and I felt like I was failing at all three.

That season forced me to slow down and rethink what I was working so hard for. I left my full-time job, shifted to freelance work, and we moved out of the city in search of more breathing room.

We settled in Bend, Oregon, and welcomed our daughter, Inès, the following year. Life felt full with a newborn and a two-year-old—but in the best way.

When survival mode became our baseline

Unfortunately, that steadiness didn’t last.

Just 11 weeks after Inès was born, both kids landed in the hospital with RSV. Between the two of them, we spent 17 exhausting days in the hospital—six of which Inès was in the NICU on CPAP, receiving my breast milk through a feeding tube.

The months that followed were hard—more health scares, repeat hospital stays, chronic ear infections, surgeries, breathing treatments, even a broken ankle. Survival mode wasn’t temporary; it became our baseline.

During that time, simplifying became my lifeline. I decluttered during nap time—first my closet, then the toys, books, and kitchen cabinets. Within a year, there wasn’t a corner of our home left untouched.

And as the physical clutter disappeared, something else shifted. I simplified our schedules, our systems, and my own expectations.

Minimalism brought our family a sense of calm and steadiness during a challenging time. But more than that, it taught me how to let go. Not just of stuff, but of the need to control what I simply couldn’t.

I say I found minimalism, but really, minimalism found me.

It’s shown me that having less actually gives me more. More ease in getting dressed every morning. More mental and physical energy for our family. More open space to enjoy at home. More content and creative kiddos. Even more joy and presence in parenting.