We've lived between a sailboat and a campervan for 10 years. The freedom is real, but so are the trade-offs.

I was hiking with my boyfriend, Tom, in the redwoods north of San Francisco in 2015 when he made the craziest suggestion: “Why don’t we camp up here on Mount Tam?

Give up rent?” At first, I thought he was joking.

Move out of my cute Zen cottage in the Mill Valley redwoods?

But he continued to talk excitedly from the fern-lined trail ahead of me. “Imagine how much you would save!

At least $20,000 per year!” Most people would never dream of giving up rent to get financially ahead, but Tom was different.

He was a creative thinker, an adventurer (who’s sailed from the Chesapeake Bay to San Francisco), and a Minnesota-born outdoorsman.

To him, camping sounded fun, a way to save money in one of the most expensive metropolises in the world.

Giving up secure housing was just another adventure to him, while to me, it was a massively big deal.

Long story short: I ended up moving into a tent with him, then a Toyota Prius, then a sailboat.

After that came a Chevy Astro van and a Sprinter van.

I paid off my debt, built my first nest-egg, and created an online business that earns six figures a year and powers our nomadic lifestyle.

It’s now been 10 years since I last paid traditional rent.

We split our time between a Sprinter van in the United States during the summer and a sailboat in Mexico during the winter.

Although some people think my life is a permanent vacation, to me it is just life — and it has its ups and downs.

I am so thankful to be living the nomadic lifestyle by choice rather than necessity.

I know there are so many people who have fallen on hard times and find living in a car the only way they can get by.

Living in a vehicle was a decision I made intentionally, and there’s relief in knowing that if I want out of this lifestyle, I can go rent an apartment.

Living below my means this way has allowed me to take risks in my business, save hundreds of thousands of dollars for retirement, and feel financial freedom that mortgage payments would never have allowed.

Beyond that, this lifestyle has been good for my mind.

When I’m living in my van or on the sailboat, I thoroughly enjoy being immersed in nature.

Whether it’s turquoise-clear anchorages in the Sea of Cortez or the forested mountains of Mount Hood, I am living within the natural world.

Most people are disconnected from this, living their lives among concrete and steel.

Nature soothes and brings peace to my being.

Freedom is huge when living this way.

I don’t have an alarm clock, a commute, or a garage full of stuff begging to be sorted.

I love that we have the flexibility to spend weeks with family and that we are able to chase the sun.

Adventures on land and on the water bring a sense of novelty to my life.

I think it’s easy to fall into a rut when living the same way every day.

This is how years fly by, days and months mesh together into a singular blob.

When you travel constantly, the years don’t feel like they are flying by; they are filled with memories, punctuation marks, and stories.

This type of change prevents me from getting bored.

I have heard this phrase many times from strangers and friends alike: “Living the dream!” or “You’re so lucky!” And while I feel very thankful for this lifestyle, there are also some downsides.

I often feel unrooted or outside societal norms, which can make it difficult to relate to “normal” people.

I miss the daily connections found in a more consistent lifestyle, such as dinners with friends, weekly ballroom-dance classes, family barbecues, and that local coffee shop where the barista knows my name.

There are days after a long hike or mountain bike ride that all I want is to take a steaming bath, have a comfortable couch to relax on, and a kitchen with hot running water.

I do without modern amenities that feel like luxuries to me, and I really miss them sometimes.

Not knowing where I’m headed next brings an amount of uncertainty.

On the boat, especially, we can be stuck for days as we wait for a weather system to roll through.

With the campervan, we often have no idea where we are sleeping next, and I’ll be searching for spots on my phone while Tom drives.

One reason I like living at the boatyard for months at a time is that it creates a sense of stability and certainty for me.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been living without a traditional home for 10 years.

After all this time, I realize I am craving a home base more and more.

Athough I don’t want to give up van life and sailboat living, I think having a home base or an apartment rental for a few months a year would satisfy my need for luxurious amenities and space to spread out.

I could spend six months on a sailboat in the South Pacific, a few months renting an apartment in Europe or the US, and a few months traveling in my van.

That trifecta sounds like perfection for me.

Living tiny has taught me how to live with less, live below my means, and save up a big nest egg that makes me feel comfortable about the future, and for that, I’m forever thankful.