For the last 10 years, I’ve worked over 40 hours a week as a single mom, often staying in unhealthy relationships simply because I couldn’t afford rent on my own. Being a single mother was never part of my plan.
I met my children’s father in 2008, and my first pregnancy wasn’t exactly a “consensual” choice. Ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to terminate the pregnancy, and my son, Cadon, was born on January 20th, 2009.
Shortly after his birth, we discovered that Cadon had a rare genetic disorder called IVA, or Isovaleric Acidemia. His body was unable to break down certain proteins properly, causing a dangerous buildup of organic acids and toxins. Untreated, IVA can lead to brain damage or even death. Tragically, my son passed away just eight days later.
In August of that same year, I became pregnant again, this time with my daughter, by the same man. Needless to say, the relationship didn’t last. Losing my son brought on regular depression, and after my daughter’s birth, I experienced severe postpartum depression. Without family support—my mom being disabled and struggling with alcoholism—I was left to navigate single motherhood largely alone. Nights were sleepless, work was demanding, and the pressure of managing everything by myself was overwhelming.
Through it all, I can say being a single mom has made me incredibly resilient. Being a young parent, I still had my youth to rely on, but my mental health has been a constant rollercoaster. In 2015, when my daughter started spending summers with her father in Utah, my mental health suffered even more. Alcohol had become a coping mechanism for me, though I thankfully no longer drink. Being forced into motherhood so young and missing the experiences many people have in their 20s took a heavy toll.
Financial independence was a struggle. Until 2016, I couldn’t fully support my daughter and myself after paying for necessities like my car. There were years I relied on programs like EBT and Section 8 housing just to survive. In 2017, I left my last unhealthy relationship and bought a small townhouse for us—a 1,249 sq. ft., 2-bedroom, 2.5-bath home with a single-car garage and back patio. It wasn’t huge, but it was perfect for my little family of two—and our two cats, Soxy and Smokey.
Maintaining the household alone was exhausting. Cleaning, repairs, and financial responsibility fell entirely on me. Being the sole provider brought immense stress, and I quickly learned that even a small home can feel overwhelming when you’re doing it all alone. This experience eventually led me to consider tiny homes, seeking something manageable but comfortable.
For the past five years, I worked in the banking industry, earning around $34k a year at my peak. Buying the townhouse was necessary; rent for a two-bedroom apartment simply wasn’t feasible on my income alone. Initially, I had no intention of buying in my current area, but I learned I could sell the home after just two years, which changed everything. I cleaned up my credit, leveraged my banking experience to manage money better, and within two months, my daughter and I were living in our own home.
My daughter loved having “our own house” and didn’t have to move from the neighborhood she’d always known. While she missed knowing neighbors, single parenting didn’t feel dramatically different—she had always relied on me as the primary caregiver.
Then 2020 arrived, and COVID-19 changed the world—and unexpectedly opened doors for me. My initial reaction to the pandemic was relief; I was miserable at my job, treated poorly by a new manager. I happened to be on paid vacation when schools closed, sparing me from a hostile work environment. Eventually, I was let go after four months, but with unemployment as a fallback and stimulus aid to help cover essentials, I could focus on survival and planning.
During this period, I deferred mortgage and car payments, applied for temporary assistance programs, and made creative financial decisions to stay afloat. I’d been searching for a van since late 2019, planning to use my tax return to buy one, but my car broke down and needed a costly replacement instead. By February 2020, after buying a new car, the pandemic gave me an unexpected opportunity: Ford was offering 0% financing for 72 months, meaning I could trade in the car and invest in a van for our future.
Nearly everyone around me thought I was crazy—moving into a van with my daughter? Selling everything? Risking stability? Even my mom doubted me. But I had done my research, made plans, and committed to creating a life where I could truly live rather than just survive.
So, I traded my car for a van, which became our tiny, mobile home. My townhouse is on the market, I’m downsizing, and slowly converting the van into a livable space. With 0% interest on the loan, the monthly payment is manageable and, in three months, our new home will be ready.
I’m hopeful about pursuing my entrepreneurial dreams and creating a life outside the traditional 9-to-5 grind. My daughter, Emiera, is excited about the adventure, seeing it as camping and looking forward to meeting other kids in the Vanlife community—even if she’s a little worried about not having a traditional toilet.
Why risk everything for a dream with no guarantees? Because life is meant to be lived. As long as we’re breathing, I believe everything will be okay. Too many of us go through life without truly embracing it. That’s why I’m doing this—for us, for adventure, and to inspire others to chase the life they dream of.
Good vibes always.
