Deliberately Homeless: I Don’t Have a Home, But I’m Happy

✨ Story time: Once upon a time there was a young woman. (Okay, she was in her early 30s.)

✨ She had a (stressful) job that she loved. She had a newly remodeled kitchen in a beautifully decorated house, filled to the brim with nice furnishings and the best kitchenwares. In fact, every closet and cupboard was full of something; she had a pair of shoes, a dress, and jewelry for every occasion.

✨ Then she was laid off (for the second time). She lost her identity in a single moment. Her world was turned upside down.

✨ Instead of jumping right back into the workforce, this young woman planned a backpacking trip to Europe. She lived out of a single carryon-size backpack for 4 weeks, visiting 10 countries. She realized she had too much at home; that her life was too heavy, too cluttered.

✨ The young woman moved into a 430-square-foot studio casita for 4 months in order to rent out her house and save money.

✨ Slowly but surely, she detached herself from her home and her things. She minimized and downsized. She survived and thrived on less — only the things she took with her — in her car and in her backpack. She bought only what she needed.

✨ The woman rented out her house for short time periods the next few years, too. Including March 2020, at the onset of a global pandemic.

✨ She was in a new city, alone, staying in somebody else’s rental home. The world was upside down again. She was terrified. She went home early, as soon as her renters left. She just wanted to be “home” again, comforted by her things and her surroundings.

✨ And then she remembered being home isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She just wanted to be free again, the world at her fingertips. (And she did break free, in summer 2020.)

This woman is me (Julie Rose). I made a home, been there, done that. The experience had its place in my life, and one day, I may make another home. But all my experiences, all my learnings, all my challenges have shown me, that ‘home’ for me is not the traditional brick and mortar building that provides comfort and security and holds all your stuff.

I’m deliberately homeless.

Home is within me. I am my own home, and I am comfortable and secure in myself.

Reflections on the Meaning of ‘Home’, from a Full-Time Nomad

Thoughts? Leave me a comment!

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