A year ago, if someone had told me I’d be living in the back of my minivan and calling it home, I wouldn’t have believed them. Life has a way of surprising us—sometimes with pain, sometimes with peace. And somehow, I found both.
It started with family tensions that slowly boiled over. After too many arguments and too little space, I came home one day to find my things packed by the door. There were messages on my phone I didn’t want to read. I didn’t argue. I just left—with my belongings in an old van and no plan for what came next.
At first, I was overwhelmed. But then, something shifted. I began to personalize the van—thrifted blankets, a small table for my sketchbook, a soft rug on the floor. I even found an air mattress that fit perfectly. Slowly, this vehicle stopped feeling like a car. It started feeling like home.
Some people might assume I was struggling—and yes, there were hard moments. I missed warm showers and quiet evenings in a real bed. But I found something unexpected: freedom. For the first time in years, I could make my own choices, follow my own rhythm, and simply breathe.
I had once believed I’d always be surrounded by the people who raised me, even in chaos. But years of stress, unspoken resentment, and personal setbacks—including the loss of a job and a relationship—had left deep cracks. One day, everything just gave way.
Continue reading on next page…