What I’ve Had to Unlearn About Sustainability

(And Why Privilege Matters)

I talk a lot about sustainability—what it looks like in my art, in my products, in everyday choices. But behind all that is something I don’t talk about enough: privilege.

The truth is, many of the choices I get to make—using organic materials, growing a dye garden, opting out of fast fashion—are privileges. I have time. I have access. I have a certain amount of financial security. And I’ve had to do a lot of unlearning to realize that sustainability isn’t a level playing field.

Here’s what I’ve been sitting with:

Sustainability Doesn’t Look the Same for Everyone

It’s easy to say “just buy better” or “support ethical brands,” but that assumes people have the money, time, or even access to those options. I’ve been guilty of thinking sustainability always means buying the better thing. But honestly, some of the most sustainable choices are the ones that don’t involve buying anything at all.

Like:

• Reusing and repairing instead of replacing

• Borrowing, swapping, or thrifting what’s needed

• Getting creative with what you already have

These are things many people have done out of necessity—not because it’s trendy, but because it’s smart and resourceful. And that deserves more recognition than a zero-waste starter kit ever will.

What I’ve Had to Unlearn

I grew up thinking convenience was neutral—that it wasn’t harming anything or anyone. That I could buy my way into being “green.” That living more sustainably was about personal virtue and perfection.

But that thinking is part of the problem.

Sustainability isn’t about doing everything right. It’s about doing what we can, when we can, and supporting systems and communities that make doing better more accessible for more people.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

I still believe small changes matter. I still believe that creativity and community are powerful tools. But now I try to offer resources and ideas with a lot more awareness and humility. Not everyone can compost or afford organic cotton and linen. Not everyone has a backyard or the capacity to DIY their way through every swap. That’s okay.

Here are a few ways I invite sustainability into my life—gently and with gratitude for the ability to do so:

• Use what I have before buying something new

• Buy secondhand whenever I can

• Support small businesses—especially those led by marginalized creators

• Grow some of my own materials to reduce shipping + connect with the land

• Share what I learn without assuming I’m the expert

And here are a few that cost nothing and work in any space:

• Pick up trash on your walk

• Start a “reuse” bin for jars, bags, and containers

• Learn how to mend something—then teach a friend

• Talk to people about where things come from and where they go

A Sustainable Life Isn’t a Perfect Life

If you’ve ever felt shame or guilt because you couldn’t do something “right,” please hear this: sustainability is not a competition. You’re not failing if you can’t do it all.

If you're making any effort to live with more care—for people, the planet, and yourself—you’re already in it. That’s the part that matters most.

Let’s keep showing up, learning, unlearning, and supporting each other. There’s room for all of us here.

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Want more ideas that feel doable and grounded? Check out my Going Green pinterest board for simple, low-cost tips. And if you ever have something to add or share—whether it’s a brilliant swap or a big feeling—my inbox is always open.