I think this idea was born at the Modern Auto Car Show of 2013. Ten-year-old me was strolling through the thousandth row of cars, while my dad spent thirty minutes analyzing another Shelby Mustang. I was bored out of my mind and thought I would vomit if I saw one more Corvette. But then, amid the hundreds of candy-apple-red convertibles, was something glorious: a massive, rust-colored van with a mural on the side of wolves howling at the moon. The inside of the van was even better. Orange shag carpet adorned the floor, matching the faux brick on the walls. The van was equipped with a bed, a stove, and a refrigerator.
That van was the height of luxury in my eyes. From that moment, I knew I wanted a van of my own. As I grew older, my obsession with van-living grew as well. I started looking on eBay for vans, school busses, etc. I also started watching YouTube channels of people who lived in vans.
However, the more I told people about my aspirations to live in a van, the more I was judged for it. More and more people told me that it was unrealistic and a pointless thing to strive for. I've never been someone with standard goals for the future. My family has never been too enthused about that, especially since most of my aspirations include leaving Washington or moving far away. For example, I've thought about going into the Peace Corps after high school, or working for a cruise line, but the wild dream I've stuck to most is living in a van and traveling around the country while working as a culinary and travel journalist.
As much as people tell me I should focus on more realistic goals, I could never see my future self having a typical job. The moral of the story is two-fold: I want to live in a van, and don't let people tell you that your dreams are unrealistic just because they're not traditional.
Until next time,