Decide what's most important. Your principles or being alone. It's a tough decision to make, and even harder to live with. Many lonely nights await those who follow...
The further I move away from mainstream, the less I relate with the masses. I feel like an outsider, a foreigner on vacation, and I don't speak the language or understand the culture. I'm a spy on a mission with only one objective: Don't get caught.
Secrecy governs every decision made. I brush my teeth in the van. Meals are prepared in the van. After supper, the van is moved to a night spot. The same spots are used to condition peoples minds, so they are used to my vehicle and ignore it.
Every driving decision revolves around keeping my home safe. A very aggressive form of defensive driving is employed, looking multiple cars ahead, beside and behind me. Always keeping track of their positions. I rarely honk my horn at anyone in anger.
I once laided on the horn at a guy, for cutting me off in a traffic circle. He responded by switching lanes, matched my speed and yelled at me to look over. No doubt he had his finger out.
Red faced and furious that he almost caused an accident, I dared not look. He was in the wrong, but he didn't think so, and was willing to fight me. Committed to escalating the situation, he banged on his horn like a drum, staying beside me. My anonymity and safety are more important. I. I ended it, switched lanes and exited.
Too many drivers out there are willing to do just that, to fight. The rage is everywhere just under the surface. We're all stressed out, forced to be in close proximity to each other. It's like having a passenger on a long road trip who just keeps cutting rank farts. Sometime soon someone's gonna get punched.
I just can't afford to have that sort of issue. I'm careful to not move suddenly or without purpose in the van. The curtains stay closed during the day. The windows are only opened, if I'm driving or it's night. The lights are never lighting up my world unless the curtains are closed. I am careful when I go through the partition door, making sure no one sees. It's a heightened state of paranoia, always watching others. To see. To see, if they know.
People aren't looking for a person living in a minivan, why project it? 90% of people who see my tinted van, and not even realize it's blacked out. 10% will notice it is and wonder why, but ultimately do not care and will carry on. 1-5% likely suspect someone lives in it, but will not creep long enough or get closer to be certain.
Some dwellers live openly. No tint and curtains down during the day. That way people can see what's going on inside. I myself think that would be okay if your traveling and in safe areas, but not if your stationary and value your safety. You close your blinds for privacy day or night, right?
Van life is not accepted. Don't think for a second leaving your curtains open will help that. Even your family or friends will not understand. You will be the end of many jokes. People feel threatened, as if you're a drug dealer or pedeophile, lurking around, waiting to destroy lives. Why don't you just live in a house, and work? What's wrong with you? They ask.
I try to explain my reasons, but their minds are conditioned to ridicule and look down on those of us that try to get out. They think I'm poor and cannot afford to live in a home, or I'm nuts. Nuts for seeing the strings on this puppet stage?
I used to tell people about my choices, but after a while I concluded it may actually be hurting my chances to find a companion. Most women want mainstream. Even women who've lived differently or want to live differently aren't open to the way I live. It always comes down to the same thing. I appear crazy and unreliable. As if my way of life proves to them I'm incapable.
They want a home to raise children in. So do I. They want to be debt free. So do I. They want to travel. So do I. They want nice things. So do I. I'm no different than anyone else, only in the order of living. It's more effective to not pay rent now, rather than try to get ahead with the convenience of a home, and all of it's associated burdens.
It's all taking it's toll on me, this stereotyping, typecasting, stigmatation. I can feel myself slipping away into a strange space between plugged in and off-grid. I carry this huge secret around with me, as if everyone around me is thee enemy of my freedom.
It's not like there could be this mass exodus for van life. Governments simply would not allow it. My route only remains possible, so long as the majority plays the game. Hidden in plain sight for now, among an ocean of commuters, I wonder how long I can keep this up? How badly do I want out?
My job has slowed considerably, and I'm no longer saving any money. There's nothing to set aside. A friend of mine has offered me a Carnival job. I'm taking it. It'll be a bit of a break from van life. A time to reflect. This should make for an interesting trip... I might even make enough to buy a tiny acreage.