Holy fuck. I did it. Or… I’m doing it.
It’s hard to explain. It’s like I’m living someone else’s life. I’m really good at it. It looks like a pretty amazing life. But something isn’t quite right. Like a sweater that looks good, but is itchy as fuck. Over the years I’ve definitely made changes. Some have been big (left a relationship of 14 years, got sober), some of have been small (yoga practice, rock climbing, more hiking, pandemic puppy). And these changes helped. But something was still off.
I have been obsessed with tiny living and #vanlife before it was cool. My Instagram feed has been filled with vans for the past five years. I had a five year plan to save for one. But then the pandemic hit, I was trapped in my house by myself, and I thought, well, why not a five year loan? So I got Betty. She’s a 2019 Ram ProMaster, that was a DIY build from a guy in Seattle. If I had to do it over again, I would have a different build. But more on that later. I have a fucking van.
Betty saved my sanity during 2020 and 2021. Weekend trips, longer road trips on the West Coast. It was great. But something was still off.
I’m a really good lawyer. I love the firm I’m at. I love the people I work with. I love my clients. I make more money than I need. By all accounts, I’m a success and I should be happy. But I’m not. I don’t want to do this for another 30 years. What do I want to do? I don’t really know. That’s always been the problem. I always said I would go do the thing if I knew what it was I wanted or felt called to do. But it hasn’t happened. And 11 years later, I’m still here.
Then a couple of things happened, that I’m sure I will explain later, and I ended up applying to and getting into American University’s School of Public Affairs Master’s program for Public Policy and Administration. It is a fully remote, part-time program from the OG Public Affairs school in DC. My plan was to do it part-time, keep working, and then figure out my next steps. It was perfect! I don’t have to move, don’t have to quit my job. I can have my cake and eat it too!
But the program is expensive. So I was gearing up to sell Betty so I could make this all work. But it was making me so sad. I didn’t want to. I was dragging my feet. And then my sweetie called me on it. He said, “You don’t want to keep working. It’s making you miserable. You have the equity in your house. Sell the house, move into the van, and travel. You keep talking about it. Do it.” (Not an exact quote, but pretty much.)
HOLY SHIT. He was right.
So in a few days, I called my real estate agent, got that moving. And yesterday, I talked to my higher ups at the firm. I’m going to help with the transition, make sure all my clients are taken care of and the firm has a great team to service them. But then I’m out. Hitting the road, finding places to park the van, and seeing what the fuck I’m really made of.
I’m terrified. I’m anxious as hell. I’m not totally convinced I can do this. But I’m going to do it anyway. Because why not? What do I have to lose? A job I don’t really want, a house that is too big for me. I don’t have a husband, kids, anything really keeping me here. And life is short. Nothing is guaranteed EXCEPT that we die. That is certain.
And it may be naive. But I love this country, this planet. And I need to try and do something to save it, to help it. I can’t sit on the sidelines anymore. So I’ll get these skills, look for jobs. Travel the country. Remember to keep breathing. And trust in my higher power, my community, and myself.
And as Glennon Doyle says, “We can do hard things.”
HERE WE GO!