I was evicted by my family, but I found peace in my car

A year ago, I never imagined I’d be living in the back of my minivan. But life has a way of surprising us—with both pain and peace. It started with growing family tensions. One day, I came home to find my things packed and a message that said, in effect: leave. So I did. With no plan, just an old van and a pile of belongings.

At first, I was lost. But gradually, I made the van mine—blankets, a rug, even a small table for sketching. It stopped feeling like survival and started feeling like freedom. There were tough days—cold nights, missing hot showers, the ache of loneliness. But there were beautiful ones, too: quiet mornings, sunlight through the windshield, the simple rhythm of living on my own terms.

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