Going Zero Waste: Is It Possible or Just a Myth?

Let me start with a confession: I once tried to go completely zero waste for a week. I downloaded checklists, watched YouTube videos with calming acoustic music, and even made a DIY toothpaste that tasted like sadness and baking soda. By Day 3, I was exhausted. By Day 5, I was googling if buying an iced coffee in a plastic cup “just once” could still count as zero waste. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

And yet, something shifted. I began noticing waste everywhere. Packaging, receipts, tissues, the mysterious plastic wrapping around every vegetable at the supermarket. The idea of zero waste suddenly didn’t feel like a lifestyle; it felt like a rebellion.

The “zero waste” movement isn’t about literally sending zero trash to the landfill. It’s more of a philosophy, reducing consumption, rethinking systems, and designing waste out of our lives wherever possible. It emphasises the 5 R’s:
Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and Rot (compost).
Sounds noble, right? But in practice, it’s also deeply overwhelming, especially when everything from a biscuit to a band-aid comes sealed in plastic.

Here’s the truth: the “zero” in “zero waste” is aspirational. Even the most dedicated zero-wasters, those who fit years of trash into a single glass jar, live in systems where waste is inevitable. For example, medicines come in blister packs, online deliveries come wrapped in plastic, and restaurants often give out straws and tissues without asking. Sometimes, even your mood needs that impulse snack that comes in a shiny foil wrapper.

But just because it’s impossible doesn’t mean it’s pointless. I stopped trying to be perfect and started focusing on making smaller choices stick. I carry a reusable water bottle and a shopping bag with me whenever I step out of my home. I stopped buying bottled water, and I try to shop mindfully.

My parents started composting kitchen waste in a terracotta pot. One of my friends upcycled an old bedsheet into scrunchies. A neighbour of ours collects milk in a reusable steel container from a local dairy. None of us is zero waste, but all of us are doing something.

What feels more like a myth isn’t the idea of zero waste itself, but the belief that individual actions alone can fix everything. Real change will happen only when systems change. If packaging norms changed, if supermarkets made refilling easy, if governments put pressure on brands to create sustainable alternatives, then our daily choices wouldn’t feel like a battle. But while we wait (and push) for that, what we do as individuals still matters.

A few things that helped me start without burning out:
– Begin with something simple, like carrying your own water bottle or refusing plastic cutlery
– Choose one area of your life to focus on, such as bathroom, food, clothing, and make slow switches
– Support brands and stores that offer package-free or sustainable options
– Don’t be afraid to talk about it, conversations build awareness
– Most importantly, don’t aim for perfection. Aim for persistence.

So is going zero waste possible? In a literal sense, maybe not. But as an ongoing mindset, as a form of care and resistance in a disposable world, it’s absolutely possible, and necessary. You don’t have to fit your trash into a jar to make a difference. Even if you’re just refusing a plastic straw or reusing a jar, you’re already doing something.
The world doesn’t need a handful of people doing zero waste perfectly. It needs millions of people doing it imperfectly, every single day.