There was a moment a few weeks ago when I realized I'd made substantial progress towards my longtime goal of wearing more natural fibers. It snuck up on me, and I felt pretty grateful for the incremental wins.
To set the stage, in my mid-twenties I had a fairly blank-slate opportunity for wardrobe changes. I had outgrown a lot of my clothes physically, and a different lot mentally. Most of the rest I'd left at my parents' house; I'd moved pretty suddenly, but geographically close enough to keep up the pretense that I'd come and collect my belongings soon.
I also had Morals and Ideals, and a burgeoning ability to finance clothing that fit those morals and ideals. I wanted durable clothes, made as fairly as I could afford, and which looked at least a little presentable. The rabbit hole from there is not difficult to imagine. For me, it started with avoiding polyester and became having opinions about yarn construction and breed-specific fiber content for wool socks.
But the delightful thing is that it wasn't a huge lift at any particular moment. I bought a few non-superwash merino undershirts one month, a merino hoodie a few months later, picked up very-nearly-all-cotton socks at the co-op while getting groceries, and just kept building as budget and inclination allowed. I learned to knit, in part out of spite and in part to learn to make non-plastic socks. And then one day I noticed that my entire outfit was natural fibers. Seemingly out of nowhere, I had collected little bits and bobs and now the vast majority of my wardrobe felt true to me.
It's not a great revelation that incremental improvements build up over time. I guess I just thought I had to get everything right at once, and maybe with this it was just about getting one thing mostly right at a time.