I planned to move into a van and travel during retirement. At 45, I decided to stop waiting.

My 16-year-old self had it all figured out: I wanted to live in a van and travel the US.

Time did what time does, though, and practical lessons from older relatives slowly pushed those dreams to the back of my mind.

Instead of saving for a Volkswagen bus, I saved for my first home, because that was considered a smart investment.

Then I saved for my second house, because bigger is better.

After all, that’s what my parents did, and it’s what they taught their kids to do, too.

I was never one to blindly follow the crowd.

My favorite compliment I ever received from my mom was that I “walked to the beat of my own drum,” but when it came to my life’s trajectory, I stayed right in line with the rest of the band.

Before my mom even reached retirement age, she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s and forced into early retirement.

My dad continued to work until 65, but during the retirement they had spent their adult lives planning for, my mom needed too much care to travel, and my dad became her full-time caregiver.

I was 44 when she passed away, and suddenly I saw what life could look like when you save everything you want to do for a day that may never come.

I had already been dreaming of a retirement full of international travel and touring the US in an RV.

After losing my mom, I couldn’t shake the thought that if this happened to her, who was to say it couldn’t happen to me?

My mind started running calculations.

If I followed in my mom’s footsteps, I might have 20 years before I needed the kind of stability and care that a life of travel wouldn’t provide.

So at 45, I bought the van, 20 years ahead of schedule.

I was still working full-time, though, I couldn’t dive right into full-time travel.

I also had a kid finishing his senior year in high school, so I kept a home base.

While he stayed home with his dad, I took shorter trips that didn’t last longer than a couple of weeks.

Once he left for college, my travel turned full-time, although I still return home during his breaks because I don’t want to miss that time with my son.

My first year was full of awe and wonder.

I’ve lived in the US my entire life, yet I felt like I was witnessing for the first time a country I thought I already knew.

Landscapes that had humbled me in other countries were right here at home.

Big Bend National Park was my first major destination out west.

As a lifelong East Coaster, I couldn’t hit my camera shutter button fast enough.

I skipped around boulders in Joshua Tree as if I had just landed on another planet.

My two senior dogs, Robbie and Atticus, were with me every step of the way, and knowing we’d shared these new experiences brought me comfort when I had to say goodbye to Robbie.

If I had waited any longer to buy the van, I never would have seen the joy on his face as he ran up the massive dunes at White Sands National Park or rested in the sun in the Arizona wilderness.

The first year was not all magical moments, though.

I was still working full-time remotely, often from the West Coast on East Coast hours.

Starting at 6 a.m. left a lot of the day open for exploring, but there were also times I had to pull over for a Zoom call or find a semi-quiet truck stop for a meeting.

On top of that, there were endless van-life logistics to figure out, from water pumps and charging issues to constant decision fatigue.

Still, I was grateful to be following my dreams and seeing the world.

I’ve now been living this way for over four years and even purchased a fully-custom second van, something I never saw coming when I bought the first.

It’s a big step up from a 1969 VW Bus in many ways, but the outcome is the same.

My van has opened up a much bigger world than the one I was living in, and I’m glad I didn’t wait another 20 years to start exploring it.