The Changing Face of Vehicle Living: Three Stories That Explain a Growing Movement
- Jul 23
- 5 min read

What a woman living in her Subaru, young van dwellers in England, and my own journey reveal about a changing world
Not long ago, I came across two news stories that stayed with me long after I finished reading them.
The first was about a young woman in the United States who made the decision to move into her Subaru. She wasn’t unemployed. She wasn’t running from a crisis. She had a stable remote job, but when she looked at the rising cost of rent and compared it to the life she wanted to live, she chose a different path. She traded square footage for freedom and financial flexibility.
A few days later, I read another article—this one from England. It followed young adults living in vans because housing prices had climbed so high that many could no longer afford to rent in the communities where they grew up. Some described van life as an adventure. Others admitted it was the only realistic option they had.
As I read both stories, I couldn’t help but compare them to my own.
For nearly two years, I’ve been living and traveling in my 2019 Kia Sorento. During that time I’ve driven through 47 of the 48 contiguous states, met hundreds of people living in every type of vehicle imaginable, and learned far more than I ever expected about this growing community.
At first glance, these three stories couldn’t be more different.
Different countries.
Different ages.
Different vehicles.
Different reasons.
But beneath the surface, they’re all telling the same story.
Not a story about vehicles.
A story about people.
Maybe We’re Asking the Wrong Question
Whenever vehicle living makes the news, the first question is almost always the same:
“Why would someone choose to live in a vehicle?”
It’s a reasonable question.
But after living this lifestyle myself and meeting so many others on the road, I think it’s the wrong one.
A better question is this:
“Why are so many different people arriving at the same solution?”
That’s a much more interesting conversation.
Because there isn’t just one answer.
Some people are escaping impossible housing costs.
Some are retired and trying to make a fixed income stretch farther.
Some receive Social Security or disability benefits and have found that vehicle living allows them to remain independent.
Some work remotely and realize they can take their office almost anywhere.
Some are seasonal workers following jobs across the country.
Some are rebuilding after divorce, illness, or financial hardship.
Some simply discovered that they value experiences more than possessions.
Different roads.
The same destination.
The Stories You Don’t Always Hear
Over the past two years, I’ve met people whose stories rarely make the evening news.
I’ve met retired teachers.
Veterans.
Healthcare workers.
Engineers.
Former business owners.
Campground hosts.
Artists.
Young professionals.
People in their twenties.
People in their eighties.
I’ve met couples traveling together after retirement and individuals rebuilding their lives after unexpected setbacks.
I’ve also met families raising children while living in RVs, converted buses, vans, and occasionally even smaller vehicles. Some have intentionally chosen a traveling lifestyle that allows them to homeschool and experience the country together. Others are navigating difficult economic realities while doing everything they can to provide a stable, loving home for their children.
Those families reminded me of something important.
Home isn’t always defined by an address.
Sometimes it’s defined by the people who are with you.
One Story Can’t Represent Everyone
One of the biggest challenges with media coverage is that one story often becomes the story.
One documentary.
One campground.
One YouTube creator.
One family.
One person.
Before long, viewers begin to believe that’s what vehicle living looks like for everyone.
It doesn’t.
Earlier this month, I wrote about how one article portrayed Quartzsite, Arizona, as though it represented the entire vehicle-living community. Quartzsite is certainly unique, but it no more represents every vehicle resident than Times Square represents everyone who lives in New York City.
The same thing happens whenever a single person’s experience becomes the lens through which millions of people view an entire community.
The woman living in her Subaru tells one story.
The young van dwellers in England tell another.
My story tells yet another.
Each of us offers one small window into a much larger world.
A Different Definition of Home
I sometimes wonder if what we’re witnessing isn’t really about vehicles at all.
Maybe it’s about redefining what “home” means.
For generations, the traditional path was fairly predictable.
Graduate.
Find a job.
Rent an apartment.
Buy a house.
Retire.
Today’s reality isn’t always that simple.
Housing costs continue to climb.
Remote work has untethered many careers from a permanent address.
Retirement looks different than it did for previous generations.
Many people are questioning whether success should be measured by the size of a mortgage or the quality of their life.
Vehicle living isn’t the answer for everyone.
It certainly isn’t easy.
But for a growing number of people, it’s becoming one possible answer among many.
Freedom Has a Price
People sometimes imagine this lifestyle as one long vacation.
It isn’t.
Every day requires planning.
Where will I sleep tonight?
Where will I shower?
What happens if my vehicle breaks down?
How do I access healthcare while traveling?
These are real challenges.
But they’re also challenges that become much easier when people have accurate information and know where to turn for help.
That’s why I created Road Life Hub.
Not because I think everyone should live in a vehicle.
But because I believe everyone deserves access to reliable information, practical resources, and a community that understands the unique challenges of this lifestyle.
Building a Bridge
One thing I’ve noticed is that most service providers genuinely want to help.
The challenge is that many have never experienced vehicle living themselves.
At the same time, many vehicle residents assume organizations won’t understand them.
That creates a gap.
Road Life Hub exists to help bridge that gap.
If service providers better understand the diversity of this community, they can design programs that truly meet people’s needs.
And if vehicle residents know where to find trustworthy resources, they don’t have to navigate every challenge alone.
Understanding begins with listening.
Not assuming.
Listening.
The Real Story
When I look at those three stories—the woman in the Subaru, the young van dwellers in England, and my own journey—I don’t see three separate conversations.
I see one.
A conversation about housing.
About affordability.
About independence.
About resilience.
About freedom.
About adapting when life doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Most of all, I see people trying to build meaningful lives in ways that make sense for their own circumstances.
Their vehicles may all be different.
Their reasons may all be different.
But the search for dignity, stability, and community is something we all share.
Maybe that’s the real story.
And maybe, if we take the time to listen to more than one voice, we’ll discover that the people behind the windshields have a lot more in common with the rest of the world than many of us realize.
What are your thoughts?
Have you chosen vehicle life, found yourself in it unexpectedly, or are you simply curious about the people who do? I’d love to hear your perspective. Respectful conversations help all of us better understand this growing community.
See you down the road.



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