There might be cracks in the rose-tinted windshield.
Over the preceding few years , # vanlife and # rvlife have become glamorize for epitomize exemption , escapism , and itchy feet . FromNomadland ’s Oscars haul to interminable articles about theallure of life story on the roadandinfluencerstraversing the continent in prim van , it ’s a lifestyle that suddenly appeal to stir - crazy travelers , adventure - seekers , and anyone enticed by its seemingly dateless opportunity .
While the whimsey of minimize and living full - clock time on the road antecedently conjured stereotype of roll hippies and snowbird seniors , the pandemic helpedshift the tale . With air locomotion off the table and many businesses and attracter closed , van and recreational vehicle open Americans ’ optic to the land around them in a whole new way . With a renewed appreciation forroad tripsand an uptick inremote work , life on wheels was the hottest new vogue for folks from all walks of life — myself included . That is , until the rough downside of RV life outweighed the top , compelling me to hit the pasture brake and find a novel good sense of home again .
“ Once the rose wine - colored windshield jade off , I find myself excite - crazy in an unexpected fashion . ”
Photo by Matt Kirouac
Back in 2018 — before the pandemic made it vogue — I sold my condo in Chicago , whittle my belongings to the bare minimum , and act into a 26 - ft motor home . I had dally with the idea for a while , but eventually realized that I actually could live this way and still knead as normal . In fact , as a change of location author , it made full signified to travel full - time , so why not do it while I could ?
My fanciful destination was to explore the US more intentionally and to untether myself from my own self - imposed safety net . After living in a big city for upwards of 13 years and building my career , it was bad and daunting to take such a bound of faith , but the innate flexibility of my lifetime grant me a once - in - a - life chance I did n’t desire to miss .
So many others experience the same pull . Remote worker , retirees , families , couples — they’re all run to a life style that ’s more dynamic and less encumbered . To break free of the casual fuss and hustle , and out into a world of Brobdingnagian opportunity and excitement , is sincerely living the American dream . Some do it for a summertime , some for a decennary .
Photos by Matt Kirouac
For me , two age was enough .
The thing about # vanlife or # rvlife that most enthusiasts and influencers do n’t tell you is that it ’s not all roses and national parks and quirky roadside attractions . Yes , all of those thing are a mountain more accessible when living on the road full - time . But you lose a lot along the way as well . Like my identity .
As grateful as I am that I took the dip and testify to myself that I could uproot from my urban security cover , there were many aspects of the experience that were just unsustainable . For every momentous joy along the way , there were bumps in the route , too — both in the real mother wit that the slightest pothole shatter my coffee equipment and the figurative way it paved the style to the death of my marriage .
Photo by Matt Kirouac
Whereas living in Chicago afforded me a spacious condominium and a sprawling city teeming with neighborhoods and refinement , my motorhome essentially countermand my sense of freedom and space . As free as it feels to explore national park and the open road , my horse sense of “ home ” was a cramp loge with barely enough entrepot space for a winter coat .
While living in Chicago as an manifestly gay man , I sense spare to be my unembarrassed ego , clad in all manner of sequin and androgyny . On the route , not only did I literally not have the closet space to accommodate such a closet , but I often did n’t sense safe present myself the same way in unfamiliar regions . Despite go through forgivingness across the nation , there were times when I ’d be too suspicious to exit the RV at rural gas stations , deter by the glares I was getting through my window . And in Wyoming , a beautiful state that I adore , a grouping of teens shouted homophobic slurs and joked about assaulting me — all while I was wear the most muted , all - black-market outfit I could possibly get hold to “ hide ” myself .
“ Vans and RVs — vas of undeniable self-examination — accelerate the emotional outgrowth and represent out the inevitable . ”
Photo by Matt Kirouac
I know everyone presents differently , and everyone find oneself ease in dissimilar way . For some — be it a singular person , BIPOC , or straight traveller — the distant wilds of Wyoming might fit like a glove . And believe me , my life on the road engendered a newfound adoration for these remote region as well . It ’s just that , after shift cultural gears for an extended amount of prison term , it start up to feel unsustainable . Once the rose - colored windscreen wore off , I found myself stir - softheaded in an unexpected way — yearning for the stability of a home cornerstone . Of more cupboard space . A layer that did n’t pen up up . Of way for my badger dog to run away around , and of a place where I could feel genuinely myself again .
You hump it ’s time to pump the bracken when this lifestyle stops feel healthy and get going feeling stifling .
A lot of us move into vans and RVs to search and divulge . Not just to see gorgeous hatful and quirky towns , but to discover more about ourselves . As such a tidal shift in modus vivendi , ditching a home for one on the road means you inevitably have a mass of time and space for mirror image .
Although some rovers might discover sempiternal joy in the wanderlust , others have a lightbulb second that betoken some finality . That ’s because , out on America ’s huge main road and rich in its wild , there ’s nothing to distract from what ’s immediately around you , and what ’s in your drumhead .
That could mean amount to terminus with your own internal demons , or realizing your itinerant sept want more of a touchable number . In my case , it meant pull in that my wedlock — the one that took me on the road to commence with — wasn’t working . Deep down , as much as I deluded myself that our fraught relationship was “ normal , ” I knew the RV life harbor a magnifying chicken feed to something I could n’t deny forever . Vans and RVs — vessels of undeniable self-examination — accelerate the aroused process and map out the inevitable .
For me , I sleep together it was time to find the oddment of the road when this aliveness , and these all - rude places that once root on utter awe , began to make me feel alone . Despite cohabiting with someone in a space no large than Barbie ’s Dreamhouse , I feel set-apart and lone , tax with overwhelming duty and homesick for friends , family , and a sentiency of residential area .
In part spurred by the pandemic , we nixed our draw out travel plans in 2020 and opt for longer stints in city we had experience with and know we loved — testing them out as trial periods for a potential new dwelling house base . It started with two months in Tucson before the impending summer heat turned the recreational vehicle into an Easy Bake Oven . Next was two month in Santa Fe , but it quickly became apparent that it wreak better as a recurring vacation destination .
Oklahoma City , as Goldilocks would say , was just correct .
My ex and I actuate to Oklahoma City in our RV in the summer of 2020 and twine up buy a house afterward that year . The sense of community of interests and comradeship materialized in a flash , affording me another rewarding chapter in my writing vocation . I became the first openly sunny person to pen a top story forThe Oklahoman — write about my time in the RV and what inspired us to move — accompany by a Hometown Hero honour from the metropolis in 2023 for my cultural contributions and my work share peculiar tarradiddle in Oklahoma . I also found the space and acculturation I so badly missed on the route , all while wearing sequins again and die my hair blistering - pink .
The regenerate infinite also led to some worked up tally . It turns out , when not restrict to a 26 - foot RV with one another , my ex - husband and I had dramatically dissimilar interest and priorities — a fleck of roughshod honesty I could n’t even grant myself to think about , let alone address , while on the route . populate a life as dynamic - yet - confined as we did magnified our defect , our needs , and our irreparable difference of opinion .
" Hitting the brakes on the nomadic modus vivendi can be just as freeing as explore the wide - open road . "
twinge of homesickness can take many shape . Meeting fellow nomads on the road , or simply via societal metier , I try chronicle of medical hardship ( it ’s hard to find hospitals when you ’re hundred of miles from civilisation with no cyberspace ) , and of depression ( the quiet of national parks is beautiful until it depart to feel crushingly lone ) . At a sure period , the purdah of # vanlife can become suffocating .
And it turns out , tally the brakes on the nomadic life style can be just as freeing as explore the wide - opened road .
travel full - time across this beautiful , various country is an incredible experience I ’ll forever and a day be grateful for . I saw places I never imagined and did things I never think I ’d do . Those two years opened my eyes to new communities , cultures , and chronicle , and revealed enrich new chance in my life history , include the opportunity to launch a national parks podcast withiHeartRadio .
It also direct me to a city I ’m proud to call home — one where I ’ve shape a strong meshing of truehearted friends and take on my new husband , together build the kind of dream life I used to only think exist on steering wheel .
Ultimately , more than anything , that life style taught me more about myself than I ever expected , and part of that lesson was knowing when the time comes to pump the brakes and call it quit … in more ways than one .
