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.
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