From: Kan Ke inSight
Interviewee: Chan Meng
Posted on: October 18, 2024
Originally posted on WeChat Public (https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/Jk9I8ONA6vsyvHz7d4dkfw)
Using Extreme Minimalism to Rebuild Myself
Chan’s minimalist lifestyle has reached an almost extreme degree.
Her room has no bed, and all her belongings fit into one suitcase and a backpack. She has only about twenty WeChat contacts and no long-term old friends. Her phone has only 7 additional installed apps, and she can delete social media accounts she’s had for over a decade without hesitation. She even changed her name, acquiring a new identity of her own at age 30.
This level of minimalism is quite an achievement, and Chan herself is very satisfied with it. She still remembers when she moved out of her mother’s home — that oppressive and chaotic household made her determined: whether in marriage or in life, she would not make decisions like her mother did.
Cutting ties with parents and family, escaping the trap of consumerism, breaking free from gender norms… she has gone further and further down the path of minimalism. Now studying abroad, she has returned to campus life. Although her post-graduation future is full of uncertainties, even anxiety can be simplified.
After all, what truly matters is only the present moment.
Here is her story:
A Bed Is Not a Necessity
I feel my current minimalist lifestyle has shown some signs of regression.
When I first flew from Nanning to New Zealand, I only brought a backpack and a suitcase. Now after living here for several months, if I were to move again, I’d need to carry an extra bag.
New Zealand’s temperature is relatively low, and since I’m sensitive to cold, I can’t skimp on warm clothes. I specifically bought an electric blanket. Now I have about three or four sets of outfits with long coats and pants. I still want to simplify further — if the landlord would allow me to do laundry every day, I could minimize my clothes to just two sets. I’d be more satisfied if I could reduce my belongings to the state when I first arrived.
I think the peak of my minimalist life was when I lived in that empty room in Nanning.
In 2020, when I moved between cities, my initial intention was to rent a completely empty room without bed or cabinets. Finding that room was a coincidence — because it was so empty, the landlord intended to rent it out as an office space. She didn’t expect anyone would rent it to live in. After I moved in, the landlord installed a water heater, washing machine, and air conditioner, but there was no other furniture or appliances.
The room had only a bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom was my living area. I used shopping bags for storage — one for clothes, one for sanitary pads and toilet paper, and another for pots and miscellaneous items. The bathroom had hand soap, a bottle of body wash or shampoo, and a toilet brush.
[Photo caption: My room in Nanning]
I tried using a mattress and bamboo bed for sleeping but found that the mattress was too heavy to move and could provide hiding places for cockroaches, while the bamboo bed would get moldy during the rainy season. Finally, I chose to sleep on a foam pad. A foam pad costs about 80 yuan and can be used for half a year. After that, I would cut it in half and join the two unworn sides in the middle, which would last another half year. I also made a sofa from discarded foam pads.
After replacing the bed with a foam pad, I could live like a plant, freely following the sun’s path. Being able to move the bed around freely was really nice. When sunlight shone on the left side of the room, I would carry the foam pad to the left. When it moved to the right, I would follow it there. At night, I would move to where the moonlight came in — lying there, I could see the moon and enjoy moonbathing. It was quite satisfying.
[Photo caption: Sleeping on a foam pad, I was like a “heliotropic plant” following the sunlight. In winter, I would fold the blanket and make an “envelope sleeping bag” for warmth and wind protection.]
Landlords usually just ask tenants not to damage the property. When my landlord came to check on a water pipe leak, she remarked, “Wow, this room is really empty.” I could hear the satisfaction in her voice.
The room was about 20 square meters, and thinking carefully, even half that space would have been enough for me to live in.
I lived in this room until 2023. When it was time to go abroad for language school, I put my documents and electronic devices in my backpack, summer clothes, slippers, and unused toilet paper in a shopping bag — one large and one small bag contained all my belongings.
Moving Out to Have My Own Life
Before going abroad, I had already lived alone minimally for 6 years.
In 2018, I broke up with someone I was matched with for marriage. At that time, I had already graduated from university and worked for over two years, but I was still living with my mom.
She hoped I would get married soon and seriously registered an account for me on a matchmaking website. On one hand, she really wanted me to get married; on the other hand, after her divorce, she wanted to remarry and wanted me to move out to make space at home.
She was very concerned about my figure, often saying “you need to eat more, your bottom is too flat.” I didn’t care at first, but after hearing it so many times, I started buying underwear with foam or silicone padding just to make my figure look better.
In my view, her concern about my figure was because she hoped to “sell me at a good price.”
After learning about my breakup, she directly scolded me: “You can’t even be sold off.” These words hurt me and made me realize that place wasn’t my home — I had to move out.
[Photo caption: Mother’s room was always full of items]
It wasn’t surprising that she could say such things; she had said many similar hurtful things to me before. I had wanted to escape from my family since high school.
At that time, my mom faced unemployment in middle age and was dealing with a marriage crisis, enduring my dad’s cold violence for several years. She suspected my dad was having an affair but kept quiet, afraid to confirm it. Perhaps she was afraid of losing a man, losing the family she had carefully maintained. She grew up in a small town and only moved to Nanning city after marrying my dad. Even her job was arranged through my dad’s connections, so she was always in a position of depending on him.
Because I went to boarding school, I could only be home one day a week. During this limited time, she would constantly complain to me. She complained about her conflicts with my grandmother, about being a single parent, about my dad’s cold violence, about my rebelliousness, about the dog making the carpet dirty… She vented her bitterness in a “forceful” way, even in the form of scolding.
At that time, I was completely dependent and couldn’t win arguments with my mom when we fought over trivial matters. I could only actively retreat as the “defeated party,” continue listening to her complaints, and be a punching bag.
Once when I came home, I watched the movie “Braveheart” about Scottish people fighting for freedom. Even when facing torture, the main character refused to submit, shouting “Freedom!” with his last breath.
That day with my mom was suffocating. I had planned to return to school in the evening but started packing to leave in the afternoon. After I went out, I slammed the door and shouted “Freedom” in the hallway. This was one of the few acts of rebellion I could make.
In my senior year of high school, my dad’s mistress became pregnant with a boy. My dad was determined to keep this boy, so he was very eager to get divorced. During their divorce process, I saw my mom at her most humble and submissive state.
After proposing divorce, my dad moved out, and when she couldn’t contact him, she would call me. I was already under great academic pressure, and I had to secretly run to a corner in the middle of the night to take her calls, listening to her sobbing complaints, and she even threatened to jump off a building to make me contact my dad.
When the college entrance exam results came out, both my dad and I were dissatisfied with my scores. He hoped I would retake the exam. But retaking meant staying in Nanning for another year, continuing to face my crazy parents. I applied to a university far away from home — regardless of how good the school was, I had to go.
Their divorce proceedings only ended after I entered university. The court ruled that my dad would be responsible for my college living expenses, and I would live with my mom. Later I learned that my dad used various tactics during the property division, leaving my mom almost empty-handed.
When my parents divorced, I went to sort out their documents and found a handwritten letter my dad wrote on their wedding day. I guess he must have read that letter at the wedding, like a declaration, full of genuine emotion and deep love. He was sincere about wanting to get married then, and later he was also sincere about wanting to divorce.
After graduating from university, I was timid, afraid of the dangers that online stories said single women might face, and felt I lacked the ability to live independently. To save a few hundred yuan in monthly rent, I still endured life at my mom’s place, living under someone else’s roof. During arguments, she would say things like “Want me to slap you?” scolding me like a child.
Only after I moved out and started taking responsibility for my own life did she realize she could no longer control my life, and her “fighting spirit” gradually weakened.
The Moment of Throwing Things Away, Growing Happier and Happier
When I first lived alone, my ideal lifestyle was influenced by social media’s trendy decorating styles. I was passionate about buying so-called Nordic style, tasteful, slightly expensive decorative items. Things like Instagram-style LED strips, wall art, plants, ovens, utensil racks… I was even willing to spend 99 yuan on a trash can because it was pure white and had a designer look.
I worked in education training, and except for winter and summer holidays, my monthly salary was only three to four thousand yuan. Rent and utilities took one thousand, food another thousand, and decorating the room another thousand. After living like this for a while, I gradually felt the pressure. This “moonlight” lifestyle (spending entire monthly income) left me short on cash, things kept piling up at home, and I couldn’t relax after work.
[Photo caption: For my first solo apartment, I bought wall art and plants for decoration]
When I realized my lifestyle needed adjustment, I remembered the “minimalist living” group I followed on Douban and thought I could try a minimalist lifestyle.
With this idea, I actively started reading many books and watching shows related to minimalism. While watching the Japanese drama “My Home is Empty,” the female lead had many classic lines like “There’s no need to keep useless things taking up space.” I strongly agreed with her philosophy and would seriously screenshot these quotes to share on my social media, repeating them to myself. Gradually, her principles became my principles.
The “key point” that urged me to embrace minimalism was when I first threw away some charging cables that wouldn’t charge anymore. In that instant, I realized I could start with small things — broken hair clips, dirty soap dishes, these inexpensive items weren’t painful to throw away.
Every time I came home from work, I would inspect my environment like reviewing troops: picture frames collecting dust, a couch taking up space but never used, expensive plants hiding cockroaches — all of these could go.
[Photo caption: The room after practicing minimalist principles]
In the kitchen, I threw away my spice containers. I had observed my eating habits and realized that as long as food had some saltiness, I could eat it. I kept only oil, salt, and soy sauce as condiments, putting them directly in the refrigerator.
I’m very practical about food, approaching it from a nutritional perspective — as long as a meal includes the five major nutrients, it’s a healthy meal. Rice and noodles both count as carbohydrates, so one is enough; meat contains protein and fat, so if I eat meat, I don’t need to drink milk separately. Now abroad, these eating habits help me reduce a lot of expenses.
[Photo caption: Kitchen before and after minimalism]
The starting point for minimalism was to save money, but the process of throwing things away made me feel good, and the positive feedback pushed me to continue minimizing. I’m a “heliotropic plant,” and after minimizing, more fresh air and sunlight could enter the room, which made me feel great and aligned with my subconscious aesthetic standard of “emptiness as beauty.”
In 2020, when moving from Guilin to Nanning, I remembered the image of my mom moving between cities. She is an “maximalist,” and when moving, she took almost everything from home except the cabinets nailed to the walls, not even leaving behind a very broken recliner.
The things she wanted to take filled the rented truck completely, and she could only hold our dog while sitting in a corner of the truck bed. The drive from Nanning to Guilin took six or seven hours, and she was cramped in the truck bed with furniture the whole way. This image left a really deep impression on me.
Why bring so many things when moving between cities, making yourself uncomfortable? When it was my turn to move, I simplified my belongings as much as possible. Becoming a minimalist was partly out of rebellion against my mom. I repeatedly told myself: whether in marriage or in life, I couldn’t make decisions like she did.
In the end, I packed my belongings in two hours, bringing just a backpack and a suitcase, and easily took the high-speed rail to start life in a new city.
Comfort Is Enough, Even “Beauty” Can Be Discarded
Yamashita Eiko mentions in “The Art of Decluttering” that objects emit “noise” — they constantly beg for attention. With fewer things at home, there’s less noise, and people can become calmer.
In my empty room in Nanning, I began practicing mental minimalism.
In college, I liked the Japanese girl group Perfume. I was fascinated by their dancing but couldn’t learn it myself, so I wanted to find someone to teach me and joined the university’s street dance club. After dinner, we would arrange to dance at the school gate or by the roadside, and a crowd would always gather to watch, which really satisfied my vanity.
I even spent money flying to Japan to see their performances. Willing to spend money on being a fan was half because I liked them and half because I was addicted to the social relationships that came with fan culture. I joined a fan group with only about ten people, but they were all die-hard fans. We would arrange to go to Japan to watch their concerts together and have meals together. In 2019, when Perfume had their first mainland China concert in Shanghai, everyone from our group gathered. After the concert, we had a few days left in our itinerary, so we went out in small groups to play. At that time, I had already done a lot of material minimalism, but I would still renew my annual membership in Perfume’s official fan club and buy merchandise.
[Photo caption: Watching Perfume’s concert with friends in Shanghai]
Until 2021, when I encountered feminist content, my views and evaluation standards changed. I no longer liked seeing female group members dancing intensively in high heels and having to soak in ice baths backstage after performances to relieve pain. My hobby of following girl groups was minimized away.
In my free time, I would open an audiobook app, repeatedly listen to “Walden” and “I Decided to Live a Simple Life,” clean the house, sweep and mop the floor, which both passed time and relieved stress.
Combining “minimalism” with “gender” pushed me another step forward in material minimalism, and more importantly, helped me break free from mental constraints. I had always worn makeup, would wake up one or two hours early to put on makeup when traveling to take better photos, and would also wear makeup every time I went street dancing with classmates.
Minimalism could help me reduce 5 lipsticks to 2, 3 eyeliners to 1, but that was all. However, with minimalism as a starting point, and then adding gender awareness, all cosmetics could be reduced to zero. As long as I felt simple and comfortable, that was enough — I no longer particularly wanted the word “beauty.”
[Photo caption: When I was a fan of the girl group, I even got my nails done to match their style]
I used to spend money on hairstyling too, but later first cut my long hair short, and before going abroad, I went to get my head shaved. The hairdresser confirmed with me multiple times, making sure I wouldn’t cause trouble for him before daring to proceed. The first feeling after shaving was refreshing. With only a layer of gray hair stubble on my scalp, when the evening breeze blew, my head felt cool.
I threw away my dresses and no longer cared about color coordination or matching when buying clothes, focusing more on fabric instead. Cotton, linen, silk — these materials that are hard to dry and need special care, I absolutely won’t buy. Polyester and fleece are my current favorites — windproof, warm, quick-drying, and durable. I’ve been wearing one fleece jacket from 2018 until now.
[Photo caption: From 2018 (left image) to 2023 (right image), my appearance has also been changing]
Fishing vests are also clothes I really like and am willing to recommend to others. They’re cheap, durable, and have big pockets. I enjoy city walks, treating the whole city as my activity room. Wearing a fishing vest, I can fit my phone, keys, umbrella, water bottle, etc., in the pockets without needing a bag.
My place is close to the park, where I can walk slowly on the paths feeling the breeze, and when there’s a sun shower, I can hide in a pavilion. Without a bag, I don’t have to worry about people taking my things. If the rain continues for more than ten minutes, I just zip up my pockets and take a comfortable nap. Sometimes when I wake up, the rain has stopped, and I continue my walk.
[Photo caption: My regular setup for city walks: flip-flops, vest, sunglasses, umbrella, phone]
Changing My Name, Deleting My “Old Identity”
In 2022, at 30 years old, it was a relatively special time point. I asked myself a question: if you could live to 100, would you want to carry your name for another 70 years? I answered decisively: no. So I decided to change to a completely new name.
My favorability rating for my dad was -100, and for my mom was -50. So I wanted to create a new surname and new name that had no connection with any relatives. Once I had this idea, I immediately went to the police station to inquire. I went home to get the required household registration book and ID card, and quickly completed the name change process.
Two weeks later, I received my new ID card. Like formatting a hard drive, I minimized away my old identity and could freely roam with a brand new ID.
My separation from my old identity started when I graduated from university. On graduation day, knowing my dad would never give me living expenses again, I simply pulled out my phone card and threw it into the university’s artificial lake, completing my “disconnection” with my dad.
During the lockdown, I had lots of free time and started reviewing old accounts. If I remembered having unpleasant experiences with someone, or if there was no current need for contact, I would directly delete their contact information. I had long since minimized away my dad, so deleting friends’ and former colleagues’ WeChat contacts carried no burden.
I also deleted a batch of old classmates’ WeChat contacts all at once. We had shared secrets, laughter, and pain in our student days, given our sincere hearts, but later everyone’s development paths and thoughts became different. There was no longer any opportunity to share our lives or cry together in each other’s arms, so was there still any need to continue being friends?
[Photo caption: In the park, helping a kite enthusiast watch their kite for a while]
I’m someone who values intense present communication. When interacting, I can chat very enthusiastically with friends, but I don’t think it’s necessary to maintain a long-term relationship. Having already enjoyed that relationship, there’s no need to regret the end of a phase-based friendship, because new relationships can still be created.
I’m very self-consistent now. The deepest social relationship is with myself — I need to be the person who best understands myself, who can best comfort myself, who can best take care of my emotions and physical health.
After doing social minimalism, I became more willing to stand up for myself. In 2019, during a department dinner, I refused my direct supervisor’s toast and expressed wanting to leave early. The supervisor felt I wasn’t giving him face and slapped my arm.
On the way home, I sent a WeChat message to the supervisor saying “Teacher XX, you just slapped me, I felt very offended.” He messaged back to apologize, but I didn’t want to accept it, and kept screenshots of the chat as evidence.
The next day, I went to the company to resign, told my colleagues at the school about this incident, and also communicated with HR at company headquarters. Later, former colleagues told me that the supervisor received criticism and punishment from the company.
When resigning, I didn’t consider whether I could find another job, but only considered my feelings at that moment. Things that make me uncomfortable, I can immediately minimize away.
Taking advantage of the job change opportunity, I moved from Guilin to Nanning. On one hand, I was already tired of Guilin and wanted to go to Nanning to enjoy better cultural and economic resources; on the other hand, I could also get a bit further away from my mom.
My rented place in Guilin wasn’t far from my mom’s home, and sometimes when she cooked at home, she would call me over to eat. She wouldn’t come to my place, but I still couldn’t escape the internal drain she brought me.
The day I was slapped by the supervisor, I told my mom about what happened, wanting to vent my emotions. But after listening, she said: “You must have done something wrong first, that’s why he hit you.” After hearing this, I could only feel speechless, feeling I had completely seen through her.
As long as we’re together, we would inevitably have conflicts and cold wars. After increasing our physical distance, our relationship actually became better than before. Both my mom and I like to travel, and when work isn’t busy, I would return to Guilin and go on short trips to nearby cities with her.
[Photo caption: Traveling with mother on short trips, we almost never take photos together, just use each other’s phones to take photos of each other]
I get further and further away from her, from living under the same roof to being separated by a street, a city. Now, we’re separated by a country, meeting once a year, and are more at peace.
If It’s Not Useful Right Now, It Should Be Thrown Away
I’m willing to share my minimalist experiences but rarely recommend things to others.
Previously when chatting with someone, I mentioned that I would read Sasaki Fumio’s “Goodbye, Things,” and after hearing this, she became interested and said she wanted to buy a copy. We were originally talking about minimalism, but because of my words, she wanted to go buy a new thing — I felt like this had become my “sin.” I told her there was no need to buy it, she could download an audiobook app like I did.
After trying so many minimalist experiments, I feel minimalism is something that requires talent.
When I wasn’t yet a minimalist, my shopping habit was to first write down things I needed to buy in my memo pad, accumulating a certain amount before going to the supermarket. Once there, I would basically look straight ahead, heading directly for what I needed to buy. Thinking about it later, this was already practicing minimalism — focused attention, clear goals.
Minimalism is also a skill that can be trained. Throwing things away is accumulating experience, and as you keep throwing things away, new ideas emerge. I had heard of the “birdcage effect” before: if I have a birdcage, I would want to put a bird in it. This thinking reversed can be applied to minimalist living. If I throw away eyeshadow, then I can throw away a whole series of things related to eye makeup.
During this process, there were also hesitations and struggles, times when I threw away a folder and then found I needed it. But once I have the idea of throwing something away, it stays in my mind, and I start finding that item increasingly unsightly. I can also quickly find alternative solutions — folding the top right corner of paper or making a hole and threading string through it — there’s no need to buy something new to solve the problem.
[Photo caption: Using a pen to make a hole, tearing a snack bag into strips to complete the binding of papers]
Many people share their minimalist experiences in the Douban group, and I’ve read many posts that left deep impressions on me. But when actually practicing minimalism, I don’t check my things against the posts to decide what to throw away, but constantly look around and examine my own life.
I’m quite frugal with myself in terms of clothing and food. For clothes and shoes, I buy export surplus and discontinued sizes, getting items for thirty or fifty yuan, not changing them until they’re worn out. Food abroad is relatively expensive, so I boil a pot of ingredients to solve three meals, using cheaper canned food to replace fresh fruit.
I even sent the hand soap formula to ChatGPT, asking if hand soap could substitute for shampoo, and got a positive answer. I use one bottle of hand soap for washing hands, washing hair, and even hand-washing small pieces of clothing while showering.
[Photo caption: In New Zealand, a work safety jacket is my must-wear when cycling out. The bright color and reflective strips enhance riding safety. During the sale season, I bought one for 5 NZD (about 22 RMB).]
After becoming a minimalist, I’ve given up many things, including both physical items and various ideas, including worries about future uncertainties.
Once, a colleague shared news about a bus accident somewhere, trying to illustrate the dangers of public transportation. Before minimalism, I would have worried about my travel safety just like I feared living alone. But now, when I hear similar news, I just smile it off.
I no longer use an imagined future to oppress the real present. I want to focus on the present, considering whether people, events, and things are useful to myself right now — if they’re not useful right now, then they should be thrown away.
Author: Yue Chu
Content Editor: Bai You Jie
WeChat Editor: Ou Xiao Ling
