The $200 Lesson: Why I Fought to Repair My Vacuum (And What It Says About the World We Live In)

One day, my Dyson vacuum stopped working. So, I brought it to the repair shop. They told me it was toast and to get a used one to replace it.

But I have worked in waste management. I know what happens when things get "thrown away" (spoiler alert: there is no "away") I have seen the cost of convenience on our environment, our communities, and our collective future.

So I said no thank you. I wanted to REPAIR it. Not toss it. I was thinking it was a motor issue (and I was right!). 

That decision kicked off two weeks of Googling, watching TikTok repair tutorials, ordering a special screwdriver set, and tracking down a compatible motor on a famous online delivery platform. I discovered my Dyson had not one but two different types of screws (needing a very long specific screwdriver, and to top it off, the part I needed was not even available through the official website (hence the online delivery platform…).

Let’s be real: without my stubborn, determined personality, there is no way that vacuum would have been repaired. And that is exactly the problem.

It shouldn’t require this much grit to keep an appliance out of the landfill.

When manufacturers design products to be difficult to open, repair, or understand, they are not just complicating our lives. They are actively undermining a more sustainable, circular economy. They are making sure we stay dependent on replacements rather than empowered by repairs.

And here’s the kicker: sustainability is not black and white. I used ChatGPT (and the water resources) to figure out the type of screwdrivers I needed. I ordered parts online (still thinking about the impact it has on emissions and working conditions). Are those platforms sustainable? Absolutely not. But I used the tools available to avoid sending a perfectly good vacuum to the landfill. We need to stop expecting perfection from individuals while letting systems off the hook. Sometimes sustainability looks like small, imperfect actions that still move us in the right direction. 

This is why the Right to Repair is not just a trendy phrase—it’s a policy imperative.

We need enforced legislation that gives consumers real choices. That supports local repair economies. That ensures companies can’t monopolize repairs or intentionally shorten product life spans. Because the truth is: not everything needs to be replaced. Sometimes it just needs patience, persistence, and a little respect for what we already own.

I spent about $200. And I saved it from going into the landfill. A new one would have cost me at least $800. In the end, my vacuum works. Like new. 

But what I really bought was a reminder: our systems are not built for sustainability. Yet. And until they are, we need to push back, speak out, and keep on fixing—one small act of repair-resistance at a time.