When people hear that I live in a van, they tend to make one of two assumptions.
The first is that I’m living some kind of carefree nomadic lifestyle, waking up beside beautiful lakes and watching the sunrise over mountains every morning.
The second is that something must have gone catastrophically wrong.
The truth, as is often the case, sits somewhere in the middle.
I didn’t move into a van because I hated houses.
I didn’t move into a van because I wanted to travel the world.
And I certainly didn’t move into a van because I thought it would make me rich.
I moved into a van because I needed to change the direction my life was heading.
At the time, I was carrying nearly £50,000 of debt.
I had a job.
I had an income.
I wasn’t in immediate financial danger.
But when I looked ahead, I couldn’t see the future I wanted.
The numbers simply didn’t add up.
The more I looked at them, the clearer it became that I had two choices.
I could continue as I was and slowly chip away at the debt over many years.
Or I could make a bigger change and try to accelerate the process.
The van was never the dream.
The dream was freedom.
The van was simply the vehicle that might help me get there.
Before making the decision, I spent a lot of time researching.
I watched videos.
I read blogs.
I looked at budgets.
I considered the practicalities.
Where would I park?
How would I cook?
What would I do about washing clothes?
What would winter be like?
What would summer be like?
Could I actually live this way while working full-time?
The more questions I answered, the more possible it seemed.
Not easy.
Possible.
Eventually I reached the point where the fear of staying where I was became greater than the fear of trying something different.
So I bought a van.
Looking back, it was one of the most uncomfortable decisions I’ve ever made.
Not because of the practical side.
Because of what it represented.
Most people move from a flat into a larger flat.
Or a house.
Or a better area.
Moving into a van felt like moving backwards.
At least that’s what I worried other people would think.
The reality was very different.
What looked like a step backwards financially turned out to be one of the biggest steps forward I had taken in years.
My expenses reduced.
My flexibility increased.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was actively changing my situation rather than simply reacting to it.
That doesn’t mean van life is perfect.
Far from it.
There are cold nights.
Hot days.
Mechanical problems.
Limited space.
And occasions when you find yourself wondering how one person can own so many things despite living in a space smaller than most people’s spare bedrooms.
But every lifestyle involves trade-offs.
The question is whether the trade-off is worth it.
For me, the answer was yes.
Because the goal was never the van.
The goal was always what comes after.
A stronger financial position.
Less debt.
More options.
And eventually, a place to call home.
The title of this blog isn’t “Van Life”.
It’s Debt, Van, Home.
The van is the middle chapter.
An important one, certainly.
But still only a chapter.
The destination remains the same as it was when I started.
To move from where I was, to where I want to be.
One decision at a time.
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