The Year of Less: How I Stopped Shopping, Gave Away My Belongings, and Discovered Life Is Worth More Than Anything You Can Buy in a Store

by Cait Flanders

But since more of anything wasn’t filling me up, maybe it was time to challenge myself to go after less.

I wanted to get to a place where I only bought things I needed when I needed them.

Each time I craved it, I had to stand in the moment, pay attention to what had triggered the craving, and change my reaction.

The toughest part of not being allowed to buy anything new wasn’t that I couldn’t buy anything new—it was having to physically confront my triggers and change my reaction to them.

More often, though, it was simply because that was what I had always done. In the past, whenever I wanted something, I bought it—no questions asked, budget and savings goals be damned. To combat these impulses now, the only thing I could ever think to do was remember how much stuff I had gotten rid of and how much I still had at home. It was enough. I had enough.

Who are you buying this for: the person you are, or the person you want to be?

Up to this point, some of the things I learned to love most about myself had only become evident when I was changing my life.

The way she could switch from talking in a meeting about six-figure deals to asking if you’d seen the latest episode of a reality show proved you should never take yourself too seriously.

I wanted to be surrounded by those who valued living over working, spending time outdoors over spending time online, and doing things for themselves over paying for every possible convenience.

In challenging myself to not shop for an entire year, I was setting myself up either for failure or for the most prosperous year of my life, and I’m happy to say it was the latter. Throughout the entire journey, I was forced to slow down, discover my triggers to spend and to overconsume, and face and change my bad habits. I gave

The ban uncovered the truth, which was that when you decide to want less, you can buy less and, ultimately, need less money.

Decluttering and purging 70 percent of my belongings came with different lessons. I realized I had spent the first 29 years of my life doing and buying whatever I could to be someone I thought I should be.

I kept so many things, and consumed the wrong things, all because I never felt...

didn’t trust that who I was or what I brought to the table in any situation was already unique, so I bought t...

But I was privileged enough to be in a position where I could choose what to spend money on and what to put into my body. This realization not only helped me become a more mindful consumer and save money in the process, it expanded my capacity to care for others and to feel gratitude for the simple things.

What could life have looked like if I hadn’t fallen into those traps? But then I remember I had to make those mistakes and learn those lessons in order to become the person I am today.

And the same way sobriety helped me save money every year, the shopping ban had, in fact, done the same. But looking back, it was never really about the money. The best gift the ban had given me was the tools to take control of my life and get a fresh start as my real self. It challenged me.

But something I had learned time and time again was that every small change you make pays compound interest.

It was enough. I had enough. I was enough.

As for work, I’m still my own boss, and continually have to remind myself that I have no way of predicting what the future holds—and that’s okay. I don’t know what’s next for me. I don’t know what work I’ll do, how much I’ll earn, or where I’ll travel to next. I didn’t even know I would get the opportunity to write this book until it happened. All I know is that I’m content with life as it is. I also have five years of sobriety behind me now, and I’m confident I’ll never drink again, no matter what life throws at me.

One of the greatest lessons I learned during these years is that whenever you’re thinking of binging, it’s usually because some part of you or your life feels like it’s lacking—and nothing you drink, eat, or buy can fix it. I know, because I’ve tried it all and none of it worked. Instead, you have to simplify, strip things away, and figure out what’s really going on. Falling into the cycle of wanting more, consuming more, and needing even more won’t help.