9 Things I Don’t Regret Spending Money on as a Minimalist

Introduction

Living as a minimalist doesn’t mean rejecting comfort, beauty, or joy—it means choosing them with clarity. Over the years, I’ve realized that the things I don’t regret spending money on as a minimalist aren’t necessarily the cheapest or flashiest, but the ones that genuinely enrich my life. From travel that widens perspective, to magnesium supplements that nurture well‑being, to giving toward causes I’m passionate about, every thoughtful purchase carries meaning. My Teva sandals have walked with me farther than any impulse buy ever could; baking ingredients have filled my kitchen with laughter; investing in self-growth has shaped both my confidence and calm; and mornings at my local nature center have reminded me that wonder doesn’t cost much. Even savings and spending on others—simple, generous habits—have proven that money feels lighter when it moves purposefully. Minimalism, at its heart, isn’t about having less; it’s about loving what remains and using every dollar as a reflection of intentional living. Spending money as a minimalist.

Here are 9 things I don’t regret spending money on as a minimalist:

 Travel

Travel has always reminded me of what Mark Twain once said about how it kills prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness. Each trip—like the one we took to Florida—became a classroom of learning and unexpected opportunities. My seven-year-old daughter still talks about hurricanes, Helene, and clouds we saw flying through the sky, her eyes bright with curiosity. Those moments opened our hearts to different ways of life and made home feel both familiar and new when we returned. Travel has that magic; it pulls us away from the daily routines, offering an outside-looking-in perspective that reminds us how wide the world really is.

Back at home, I realized how scheduled our lives were and that I needed to drop a few commitments to create more margin and stillness. That quiet space helped me see what truly mattered. Travel doesn’t just show us new places—it reshapes how we live at home, reminding us what’s worth keeping and what can be released. It turns out, a little distance reveals a whole lot of life, and I’ll never regret the investment in it, no matter how small the trip or how busy the season.

Stress reduction

When it comes to stress and sleep, my minimalist mindset doesn’t hold me back from what truly helps. I once read an article about how magnesium supplements can transform a person’s health, and that insight changed my nighttime routine. The truth is, nearly 80% of the population suffers from deficiency due to modern food habits, making it almost impossible to get enough through diet alone. So I started supplementing with a go-to blend that covers all seven forms my body needs, and the improvements have been remarkable. It helps me feel grounded, calm, and present, giving my energy a gentle lift during the days when I need it most.

I happily buy this monthly, not out of obsession, but because it’s an investment in both my well-being and our household harmony. The change feels subtle yet noticeably steady—marked by better sleep and a lightness that ripples around me. It’s strange how something as small as a bottle of lavender oil or a high-quality magnesium capsule can reconnect you to balance. Everyone I know who has tried it says the same, and I’ve definitely found that caring for the body from within is one of the most worthy, sustainable things a minimalist can do for themselves and those they love.

Causes I’m passionate about

Spending with purpose brings a kind of freedom that clutter never could. When I channel my money toward causes I’m genuinely passionate about, the ripple feels life-giving—a quiet trade-off that fills rather than drains. My heart is often drawn to underprivileged kids, and working with nonprofits like Unbound, Hope Effect, and ChildFund has become a wonderful way to support something bigger than my own needs. It’s a feeling that no pile of stuff could replace. Personally, I see this as the modern minimalist’s version of investing: purchasing in service of change, not accumulation.

I know my spending habits have a long ripple—each year, billions of people face crises most of us can’t imagine. For example, 2.2 billion people lack access to safe drinking water, while apparel production consumes enough to fill thirty-two million Olympic-sized swimming pools each year. That reality makes it wonderful to know that even small shifts in how we buy, from skipping fast fashion to donating instead, can remake parts of the world. It means our minimalism isn’t about saying “no” to joy; it’s about saying “yes” to what truly matters..

Teva sandals

As a minimalist, I’ve learned that it’s not about counting the number of things you own but about ensuring each piece truly supports your lifestyle. I have five pairs of shoes, and my Teva sandals are the unexpected heroes among them. They’ve carried me through countless days when I want to live lightly yet stay comfortable. Whether I’m wearing them with dresses, workout clothes, or jeans, they fit effortlessly into everything I do. These sandals have outlasted fancy flats, boots, and Toms sneakers, proving that simplicity doesn’t mean sacrificing practicality.

My current pair is a few years old, yet still strong, though the Velcro is starting to fail in a few places. I’ll happily purchase a new pair next summer, not because I need something shiny, but because they remind me that quality beats quantity. I often write about how minimalism isn’t about deprivation—but choosing well and living with purpose. These shoes, like much of my closet, reflect what I value most: comfort, durability, and freedom. It’s funny how something so simple can quietly anchor your sense of enough.

ALSO READ 7 Ways to Simplify Your Wardrobe

Baking ingredients

I may not cook elaborate meals every day, but I love to bake, mostly because baking has become a deeply creative outlet for my children and me. It’s our shared connection, a mix of fun, music, and occasional kitchen dance sessions while we eat spoonfuls of dough that never quite make it to the oven. My kids love this routine, and my two-year-old daughter always asks, “Mommy, can I help?” We keep things simple, often dairy- and gluten-free, both for allergies and because it’s just easier that way. Some of my best recipes start with a Costco-size bag of oats and dates, which are our go-to bases for snacks and desserts we make weekly.

I happily invest in good ingredients because they stretch far, taste better, and make each session feel grounding. There’s something honest about stirring, tasting, and sharing—it reminds us that nourishment goes beyond food. Baking may not be the most minimalist activity, but it slows time in the sweetest way, balancing simplicity with joy. We keep it light, because, like anything we choose to hold onto, it should add meaning, not mess, to our lives.

Self-growth

I’m a firm believer that any investment in yourself naturally ripples around everyone who depends on you. Over time, I’ve invested in my own growth through decluttering courses, healing retreats, and therapy, all of which helped me understand what truly motivates me and what triggers I need to face with grace. Working on mindset is a lifetime practice—it helps you stay present, available, and compassionate toward both yourself and those you love. I’ve also learned to declutter my self-talk, a subtle but powerful shift that makes a bigger difference than new possessions ever could.

Through this journey, I’ve learned to quiet my mind, overcome comparison, and turn inward when chaos knocks. It doesn’t happen once and stay perfect—growth is daily, slow, and sometimes messy, but always worthwhile. Progress takes time, and I’ve come to know that the best tools for change aren’t physical but emotional. Whether through intentional reflection or continuity in practice, the reward is simple: a lighter life. My hope is to teach my kids that the best investments aren’t kept on shelves, but within the heart, because self-work always multiplies its return.

Local nature center passes

One of the wisest choices my minimalist lifestyle ever supports is spending on our local arboretum and nature center passes. The healing, energizing effects of natural environments are unlike anything else—they make you feel grounded, still, and restored in a way nothing indoors ever could. I first read about this connection in a book by Florence Willams, who wrote about how we’ve become too disconnected from the world around us to realize what they offer. Whenever we visit, I can see our family engage in more creative, empathetic ways; the simple act of being outside is quietly transformative.

We live just five minutes from the arboretum, and I plan to continue our outings there frequently. It’s a small adventure that adds more time, not clutter. Instead of picking up stuff or cleaning indoors, we walk shaded paths, watch the leaves, and notice each other more closely. The studies that show how healthier and aware people become through time in nature always ring true for me. It has become the kind of activity that, while little in cost, returns abundance every time. To call it “just a pass” would miss the point—it’s a reminder that simplicity and wonder often share the same trail.

Savings

One big reason we stayed in our little apartment for so long was the low rent and minimal maintenance, a situation that allowed us to save money every month with ease. That simple choice built savings that came in handy later—especially when we were newlyweds facing unexpected hospital bills and car repairs. It also helped us be able to take a few awesome trips together. Minimalists often spend less on random junk not out of restriction but because they understand the peace that comes with having control over their money and time. Looking back, our frugal season wasn’t deprivation—it was quiet preparation.

We built the habit of saving regularly, slowly shaping it into part of our rhythm. Even small contributions down the line add up, and they’ve become the backbone of our futures. I’ve come to see that those who invest, even modestly, tend to face life’s changes with confidence. When we finally moved on from that small space, the lessons stayed: stay grounded, don’t overspend, and let your priorities guide your choices. The joy of being able to go on adventures or handle surprises without worry is worth far more than any pile of things gathering dust on a shelf.

Spend Money On Others

One of the sweetest rewards of minimalism is how it allows you to spend money on others without the constant pull of excess. I love that my husband’s generous nature naturally complements this lifestyle—we live below our means, save regularly, and avoid the urge to buy junk. That little margin lets us do nice things for friends or parents, like treating them to dinner or stepping in to help someone in small, meaningful ways. There’s no worrying about every budget line or problem later, just the satisfaction of giving freely. Over time, these choices have shaped our rhythm of living; what could have been stuff becomes shared experiences instead.

We’ve found that when you spend, give with intention. Both volunteer work and small acts—like a donation to an organization we trust—remind us that generosity fuels happiness more deeply than possessions ever could. To be a minimalist is to find abundance in giving, to see that your “less” can become someone else’s “more.” It’s always amazing how the best things we do for others end up filling the quiet scarcity inside ourselves. Because when we give, we receive something richer—connection, gratitude, and a sense that there is truly enough to go around.

Conclusion

After walking through these nine areas of intentional spending, one truth stands out—minimalism isn’t a restriction, it’s liberation. Each category, whether it’s the serenity of nature, the nourishment of good food, or the joy of supporting others, has taught me to connect my money with my values. The more mindfully I choose, the more abundance I seem to uncover—not in quantity, but in quality of life. Minimalism gives structure to generosity, purpose to purchases, and gratitude to even the simplest moments. Every transaction, big or small, becomes a quiet affirmation: I’m spending not to impress, but to invest—in peace, growth, and connection.