My name is Amy Roberts. I'm 26 years old. I'm a Tennessean.

I'm a dreamer with her head in the clouds, and I don't think it's ever gonna change.  I'm the wife to my husband with two loving kitties, the only daughter to my parents, and the only granddaughter to my grandparents.

I believe in God. I believe in supporting companies that trade fairly and produce ethically. I try to be mindful of others and help where I can. I refuse to wait until I'm super old to start traveling, but I'm learning that adventures happen wherever you're at.

When I was 16, I met my now-husband in the youth band at our church. He was the sound guy; I was a singer. After 6.5 years of dating, we finally got married. He's still a sound guy (and now a bass player); I'm still a singer (and now a worship leader). We're exact opposites and exactly the same.

When we got married, we bought a three-bedroom house with a big backyard and a two-car garage. We had cows for neighbors and the view was amazing. Fields flooded with yellow spring flowers at Easter, and in the fall hay bales dotted the landscape everywhere you looked. But inside our home it was absolute chaos. Everything the two of us had ever owned was brought in, along with lots of things our parents didn't want anymore. We put as much away in closets as we could, then shoved the rest into the third (unneeded) bedroom and literally designated it "The Stuff Room". It was piled to the ceiling and took six months to sort through.

For the next two and a half years we hosted at least two to three garage sales per year in a desperate attempt to quell the influx of stuff (and maybe actually be able to pull a car into that two-car garage of ours). Our home was a renovation project, and it seemed every spare moment was spent hammering or installing or repairing. This was, I believed, solely to blame for the nagging anxiety I felt every time I opened my front door. But even when a room was finally complete, I could still feel no tranquility. I didn't understand it. How could I still feel this cramped in such a spacious house? I had the abundance of light, the open floor plan, the coordinating colors... what was missing? Eventually (I don't remember how), I stumbled across the idea of a capsule wardrobe. As I embraced the idea of scaling down, I began to see a transformation in my closet. Enthused, I wondered how I could achieve this level of calm in the rest of my home. It was then that I discovered the word minimalism.

In October 2015 we moved from our three-bedroom house to a one-bedroom apartment. I spend my time striving toward my goals (and actually making measurable progress), learning and embracing who I am, and genuinely living more with less.

Resources I found helpful:

The Minimalists
Project 333
The Mind Palace Podcast
The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up
Zen Habits