It’s Never Too Late to Rewrite Your Story

I’ve been searching for ways to simplify my life for as long as I can remember. I would spend countless hours longing to somehow make this dream a reality. All I ever wanted was an escape from the madness—some semblance of freedom and independence—some way to gain back control of my life.

The normal, expected ways of life never made sense to me—college (debt), work (pay off debt), and the dreaded 30-year mortgage (paying debt forever). As I grew older, life only became more complicated and confusing, not to mention anxiety-inducing. And yet, there I was, living this life I never agreed upon and I didn’t know why. I was going through the motions at a job I despised, and every moment spent there, my mind was off elsewhere, longing for more.

I felt so trapped and afraid. I could see myself easily slipping away into this lonely abyss of nothingness. I knew that if things didn’t change soon, I was going to lose myself completely. I felt like the oldest 25-year-old in the world.

Then one day, something snapped inside of me and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I finally gained the courage and quit my job.

Sometimes you just need to trust your instincts, take a leap of faith, and hope everything will be okay.

I was finally on a path to living the life I always wanted. Living on my own terms. Living with purpose.

The first step was taking care of myself. I’m certain that close family and friends were worried about my well-being during this transitional period. They may not have realized that I was finally at peace with who I was and unafraid to pursue those long-lost dreams. It was one of the most freeing experiences of my life when I finally shed the feelings of guilt worrying about other’s thoughts and opinions. I’ve always worried about what other people thought.  These were the same feelings that led me to settle for a job I never really wanted. When you finally shed these worries, there is nothing left to hold you back from achieving what you truly want but yourself.

What I wanted to do was travel to another country. It was something I couldn’t explain at the time, other than the plain fact that I knew I needed to get away. I needed to find myself again—to throw myself into a crazy adventure just to remind myself that I was still alive. I’d forgotten who I was, only knowing that deep down I still existed somewhere within. Years of a soul-crushing work routine had worn me down and made me numb. But most of all, I needed to prove to myself that I could do it—survive in a foreign environment. I needed to challenge myself and hopefully come out of the other side with a clean reboot to my life. I’m not sure many people ever have the opportunity or ability to do this, but if possible, I highly recommend it.

I considered Canada, but it was too expensive and not far enough away. I also considered Costa Rica, but felt it was a bit too far away for my comfort. I eventually settled on Baja California, Mexico. What drew me to this area was the proximity to the United States, the extremely low cost of living, and a relatively large population of expats living there. I hired an agency to help me with the move (https://www.pokerrefugees.com/) and they took care of everything. Their services were worth every penny. I couldn’t have done it without them.

I ended up with a small apartment in a building right on the beach.

Baja reminded me of coastal California, only without the noise, traffic, fancy high-rise buildings and millions of people. Raw, dry and vast, with bold cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. A rocky, barren desert by the sea.

Every day I would wake up, eat breakfast, and take long walks around town.  I walked everywhere, sometimes up to ten miles a day. I would breathe in the salty Pacific Ocean air, listen to music and think. I’d play back memories in my head and try to figure out where I went wrong.

Living in a foreign country helped me quickly realize the value of experiences over possessions and material things. Most of these things I had spent the majority of my adult life stressing over quickly became laughingly unimportant. Slowly, I became aware that I’d been conditioned to think a certain way, to focus all of my energy towards doing these things, because they were important and would make me happy. That couldn’t have been more false. Trying to live up to society’s expectations of what your life should look like will only lead to sadness and depression. You’ll never be at peace. This, among other things, is likely why suicide rates are higher than ever before.  People feel as if they’re never doing enough. It’s so easy to look at Instagram and compare your life to others. I still do!

But you don’t have to compare yourself to anyone.

You’re only responsible for finding your own happiness and inner peace.

Suddenly, normal, mundane tasks like going to the store to get groceries became a difficult chore. Everyday tasks normally taken for granted became things I needed to work for. I loved it. Out of necessity, I was forced into living with purpose. Every breath, every task, every reflective thought done deliberately. Every day I’d have a list of things I needed to do and at the end of the day, once I’d accomplished those tasks, I’d go to bed feeling accomplished.

During my first four months in Baja, I didn’t talk to anyone. I was extremely guarded, cautious, and trusted no one. To this day, I still carry those characteristics with me, knowing that no one is truly looking out for you more than yourself. No one knew who I was, and no one bothered me. I felt truly invisible and as close to a ghost as I’ll probably ever be. It felt incredible not to be constantly pressed for time to do things I didn’t want to do, which enabled me to live each day on my own terms.

When I returned home for the holidays in December 2013, I was invited to a New Year’s Eve party. Walking into my friend’s apartment that night, I had no idea how drastically my life was about to change. But in just one night—after one simple conversation, nothing was ever the same.

I met the love of my life!

I’ve never been much of a talker, but somehow Stephanie and I were up all night talking, both of us lost in the moment, like long-lost friends that somehow never met, catching up on a lifetime somehow spent apart. I wondered why and how it took so long for the both of us to come together, frustrated with all the lost time and struggles endured in between when we could have supported each other. But in the end, I was just grateful we’d come together at all.

Before we knew it, it was morning—the sun rose in one fell swoop and time seemingly passed in what seemed like no time at all.

The former life I’d lived up until that magical moment instantly drifted away. I was 26 and my life had just begun.

One year later, New Year’s Eve 2014, I proposed.

The following year, New Year’s Eve 2015, we were married.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my time spent alone in a foreign country helped me become a better man and husband.  Before you can fully commit to loving another person, you need to fully respect and love yourself and be totally comfortable with who you are. Otherwise, you won’t be truly giving all of yourself to your significant other, which wouldn’t be fair to either of you. I realize some people may never have the chance to truly be alone and get to know themselves in such a deep, spiritual manner. I can only strongly recommend that everyone attempts to do this on some level. It doesn’t matter what point you’re at in life. We owe it ourselves, families and loved ones to be the best version of ourselves. When fate walked into my life in the form of my wife, I was ready to jump right in and love with all that I am.

She shared the same adventurous spirit as myself. Our first summer together, we had both quit our jobs at the time and weren’t sure what the future held for us, other than the fact that we loved each other and wanted to be together. All we had was each other and in that time our bond grew so incredibly strong. We decided the best thing that two unemployed lovers should do was take a road trip to Nashville and spend the week there. We stayed at a tiny cabin at a KOA outside of the city and had one of the best weeks of my life.

During this chapter of our lives when we had the least amount of money and “things,” we were actually happier than ever before.

The idea to go on vacation at that point when both of us were unemployed probably looked crazy to everyone around us, but it was an escape that at the time we both desperately needed. It was very similar to the way we eventually arrived at the decision to live in a tiny house!

Our Tiny House Journey

During the first few months of our relationship, we would meet up at Stephanie’s sister’s apartment with any free time we had. We would stay overnight in a bedroom almost small enough to be considered a closet and we somehow slept on a twin-sized bed! Once we moved in together, we first spent some time living in my parent’s basement, before eventually renting our own small, crappy studio apartment. Neither of these situations were ideal and we both craved to have our own space—a home base. We never had a lot of space to ourselves and that become kind of a theme and a norm for us. What really mattered was that we always had each other.

We wanted to own something and not be straddled with more debt. It didn’t matter if the idea was unconventional. The idea of getting a mortgage never seriously crossed our minds. Most of the “normal” sized homes in our price range were fixer uppers that we’d likely have to put even more money into than we wanted. When we started watching all of the tiny house shows on FYI and HGTV, we eventually decided that we should just do it—let’s live in a tiny house! I’m pretty sure we decided on it just like that. Because why not? We could have a home custom built for us with exactly what we needed and buy it for a price we could afford. I loved how the idea made perfect sense to us and looked crazy to everyone else!

Eventually we found jobs we both enjoyed, her as a Pre-K teacher and myself with at-risk youth in a group home. While both of our professions are important, they don’t make much money—another reason why living in a tiny house was going to be so beneficial to us! We also didn’t want to spend so much of our time working that we forgot to enjoy ourselves. A tiny house would allow us to save money to continue to travel and have more fun adventures.

We found the perfect property for our home, but one huge caveat that came along with it was knowing that we had to put some sweat equity into it from the start. There was an old, dilapidated mobile home currently sitting in the spot where we planned to put our tiny house. So, without knowing anything at all about tearing a house down, we ended up doing just that. It took several months of tough, physical labor and clean up to get the site ready for our tiny house. We were very thankful to have such supportive family to help us!

 

We also had to earn our ability to legally park our home on the property. It was in a medium density residential neighborhood, zoned R-2. It always seemed funny to me that you should need anyone’s permission to put anything on property you own, but apparently this is the world we live in. We naively applied for a variance for the square footage requirement assuming we would get approval, and luckily, we did! As far as we know, it was the first approved variance in our county’s history for a single-family dwelling to be less than the minimum 500 square feet! I’ll talk more about this experience in the future.

We thought we’d found the perfect builder for our home, but the experience turned out to be a nightmare. I don’t want to give the man any publicity here. I would just say that at a few points we thought we had been scammed and had lost the investments we had given the man during the “building process” as time went on and we did not see any photo evidence that any work was being done. Then, just as magically as the Patriots somehow making a comeback to win Super Bowl 51 against Atlanta, our house showed up (6 months later than expected) just after midnight the night of the Super Bowl.

We were supposed to have our house leveled by the driver upon delivery, but of course that didn’t happen either, to go along with many other broken promises. In the end, we were just happy to have a home of our own. That first night was freezing cold and due to the house being left unleveled, we were unable to fully close the front door! We ended up draping several towels over the open doorway and blasted a small propane heater as we slept on the floor. The whole experience, to say the least, was simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting.

The next morning, we went to work on basically no sleep, determined to return home later that day and figure out how to level the trailer on our own. Thank goodness for Youtube. We bought a bottle jack at Tractor Supply and 3 hours later our house was finally level and we could finally shut the front door. That moment officially marked the beginning of our adventures living in a tiny house.

The whole process only reiterated the fact that we needed to start taking more control of our lives and the things we want. This meant learning to do things on our own and not paying others to do them, not only to save money but because you can’t depend on anyone more than yourself to get things done. If we were to start the process over again, I would likely attempt to build the house myself.

We welcomed our daughter Lucy into the world this past December and she has been an absolute treasure.

Living in a tiny house is all she’s ever known, and we think she’s going to love having her very own loft bedroom when she’s ready!

We face new challenges living in our tiny house, especially with the baby. Everything about life is amplified in a tiny house, something I believe is one of the biggest positives of this lifestyle. You’re forced to interact with family and unable to hide in closed off rooms. You have no choice but to discuss any problems you’re having. You have no choice but to be more open, honest, and human.

Our house is never clean, and it seems like we’re constantly rearranging furniture (or getting rid of furniture completely), making small tweaks and adjustments to make our home feel more comfortable. We’re constantly getting rid of things we realize we don’t need. I love the way living tiny forces us to live deliberately and with purpose every single day.

Our tiny house is anything but perfect. I’d be lying if I said I never got jealous staring at some of the beautiful tiny homes on Instagram. I wish we had waterproof floors that didn’t scratch constantly. I wish we had larger windows that brought in more natural light. I wish we had large French doors!

But despite all the wishes and wants, I absolutely love our tiny house. We finally have our home base—our sanctuary! Our tiny house represents more than just a house. It’s a physical manifestation of our ability to overcome adversity and problem solve—to think outside the box and find a lifestyle that works for us.

The purpose of this blog is to encourage others to live the simplest life.

To live with intention each and every day.

I want to help others to seek fulfillment by accomplishing their hopes and dreams rather than buying more material things. I hope to encourage others not to worry about fitting into the mold of what others or society expects of them. I want to lift people up while the universe tries to drag them down. I want to help not only declutter people’s homes, but also help free their minds from the stress and anxiety that plagues our everyday lives. I want to inspire others to take control of their life, whether that means living in a tiny house, van, RV, or something completely different—however your life may stray from the norm. Your life choices don’t have to make sense to anyone other than yourself.

Live the life you want. Envision the life you want and work towards that goal every day. Be a better version of yourself today than you were yesterday. Know that you can be whoever you want and do whatever you want. You are powerful beyond measure and no one can stop you. Nothing feels better than truly believing in yourself. Nothing feels better than setting a goal for yourself and achieving it, having it become your new reality.

If you ever find yourself feeling like you need to make a change, don’t be afraid—embrace the challenge. The best time to reassess where you’re at and make a change is now. It’s never too late.

It’s never too late to rewrite your story.

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