When I moved to Spain, I didn’t expect to start unlearning my relationship with stuff. I came here to slow down, soak up the sun, maybe dramatically walk through a market with a woven basket. But somewhere between the cobblestone streets and my tiny spice rack, I realized I’ve become less of a consumer. And honestly? I’m thriving.
Back in the States, I didn’t think twice about stocking up on “just in case” items. Bulk shampoo. Three backups of my favorite mascara. Canned beans, like I was preparing for an apocalypse. Shopping wasn’t always about need; it was about comfort, control, or let’s be real, boredom. I shopped like the world might end, or like Target was my therapist. But here in Spain, that consumer reflex… just sort of stopped.
First off, Amazon? Not really the same here. Between customs delays, unreliable delivery, and the fact that your buzzer might not work even when you’re home, it’s just not worth the drama. You quickly learn: if I can’t walk to it, I don’t need it right now. And it’s weirdly liberating.
Now, I use up every last drop of my face wash before I even think of replacing it. Same with my groceries. There’s this weirdly satisfying moment when you use the last bit of your olive oil or the final onion in your basket. It feels…complete. Like I got my money’s worth, and nothing went to waste. A tiny win for the planet and my budget.
Even my eating habits shifted. I used to “stock up” like the grocery store was a hike away. Now, I eat when I’m hungry, I walk to the market when I need something, and if I forget a spice for a recipe? No big deal. Mercadona’s a three-minute stroll, not a 20-minute drive and a parking lot meltdown. (Shoutout to U.S. suburbia for making grocery shopping feel like a triathlon.)
I’ve also found myself consuming less food overall, like the tapas really do the trick. I think part of it is psychological. There’s something about having a variety of small bites that makes your brain feel like you’ve eaten more than you actually have. It’s like fooling your stomach with flavor diversity.
It’s the opposite of the oversized American portions I used to inhale because they were just there. Here, I’m not eating out of boredom or habit. I’m tasting. I’m enjoying. And my body’s kind of like, “Thank you for not making me digest a loaf of bread disguised as a sandwich.”
Spain has a way of teaching you to live with less, not in a minimalist, beige-everything, let’s romanticize suffering way. But in a “what if you just chilled out and only bought what you needed today?” kind of way. And I’m into it.
I’ve realized how much of my old spending had nothing to do with need. It was noise. A distraction. A dopamine hit in a plastic bag. But here, life is slower. Simpler. And when you’re not filling the space with stuff, you start filling it with other things: long walks, fresh bread, conversations, quiet.
I’m still me, I like cute clothes and skincare, and the occasional overpriced candle. But now, I wait. I think. I use what I have first. And somehow, it makes the things I buy feel more special. Spain didn’t just change my pace. It changed my patterns. And somewhere along the way, I became someone who doesn’t need as much to feel full.
Which is wild… because I used to think I needed everything. Eating less but feeling more fulfilled? Spain wins again.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
