How RV Life Has Changed Me in the Past Two Years
Written by Nancy Carter of Making My Own Lane
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Today I want to get real with you all about how living in this RV for the past two years has fundamentally changed who I am as a person.
If you're new here, about two years ago, I decided to sell most of my possessions, buy this RV, and hit the road. At the time, I thought it would be a fun adventure, maybe something I'd do for a few years before returning to "normal" life. Little did I know that this lifestyle would completely transform my perspective on what "normal" even means.
Today, I'm going to share the biggest ways RV life has changed me - from my relationship with material possessions to how I view community, from my daily habits to my long-term goals. So grab a cup of coffee, get comfortable, and let's dive in!
Hey friends, welcome back to my blog! If you’re new here, I’m Nancy, and I’ve been living full-time in my RV for the past two years now. Two years of adventure, campgrounds, unexpected breakdowns, breathtaking sunsets—and a whole lot of personal growth.
Materialism, Possessions and Downsizing
The first and perhaps most obvious way RV life has changed me is my relationship with stuff. When you live in under 200 square feet, every item you own needs to earn its place.
Before I moved into the RV, I had a three-bedroom home filled with furniture, decorations, kitchen gadgets, clothes I rarely wore - you name it. I was constantly buying things I thought would make me happy or impress others. Shopping was literally a hobby.
The process of downsizing was really painful at first. I remember sitting surrounded by all my belongings, trying to decide what was essential enough to bring into my new, tiny space. Each item represented money spent, a memory, or part of my identity. Letting go felt like losing pieces of myself.
But here's the thing - once those items were gone, I rarely missed them. In fact, I felt lighter. The mental burden of maintaining, organizing, and worrying about all that stuff disappeared.
Now, I follow a simple rule: one thing in, one thing out. Before I buy anything, I ask myself three questions:
Do I truly need this?
Where will it live in the RV?
What value will it add to my life?
This mindset has saved me thousands of dollars. More importantly, it's freed me from the constant cycle of consumption that our society normalizes. I've realized that experiences and relationships bring me far more joy than any possession ever could.
The irony is that by having less, I feel like I have so much more. More freedom, more time, more mental space. I'm no longer defined by what I own, but by how I live.
You can read more about my "downsizing journey" here.
What Is "Enough"?
One of the most profound shifts in my thinking has been redefining what "enough" means in my life. Before RV life, I was caught in what I now recognize as an endless pursuit of more - more money, more space, more stuff, more achievements, more validation.
Our culture conditions us to believe that we never quite have enough. Advertisements, and sometimes friends, tell us we need the newest phone or fashion trends that change every season, and social media shows us bigger houses and more luxurious vacations that make our own lives seem inadequate by comparison.
Living in an RV forced me to confront this mindset head-on. When your entire home is 200 square feet, you quickly learn what "enough" truly looks like for you personally.
I've discovered that my "enough" is remarkably simple. Clean water, nutritious food, a comfortable place to sleep, good health, meaningful work, beautiful surroundings, and genuine connections with others. That's it. That's what truly contributes to my happiness and wellbeing.
What's been fascinating is realizing how many things I thought I needed were actually just wants, often influenced by external pressures. The distinction between needs and wants has now become crystal clear.
This redefinition of "enough" has been incredibly liberating. When you know what's truly enough for you, you stop chasing what others think you should want. You become immune to FOMO - the fear of missing out. You find contentment in what you have rather than anxiety about what you don't.
I no longer feel the need to upgrade perfectly functional items. I don't feel inadequate when I see others with more expensive possessions. I don't measure my worth by my salary or title or address.
There's a quote that's become something of a mantra for me: "The secret to happiness is not in having more, but in wanting less." Two years of RV life has shown me the profound truth in those words.
That's not to say I don't still have goals and aspirations. But now they’re more aligned with my authentic values rather than society's expectations. I pursue personal growth and new experiences rather than the accumulation of stuff and status. And I recognize when I have enough - enough stuff, enough activity, enough work - and allow myself to enjoy that place of sufficiency.
Slowing Down and Enjoying Life
When I first hit the road, I was in hustle mode. I wanted to see everything. I was booking back-to-back sites, moving every few days. But somewhere around month six, I realized… I was still living in that rushed mindset I had in my old life.
Closely tied to redefining "enough" has been learning to slow down and truly savor life. Before RV life, I was constantly rushing - rushing to work, rushing through meals, rushing through weekends to prepare for Monday. My calendar was packed with commitments, usually work commitments, and "rest" was something I scheduled between productive activities.
RV life forced me to break that cycle. When you're not tied to a conventional job schedule or social obligations, you start to question why you were always in such a hurry. I'm learning to structure my days around natural rhythms instead of artificial deadlines.
I now give myself permission to spend an entire morning taking my dogs for a walk or reading a book by a lake. I've stayed an extra week in places simply because I wasn't done enjoying them yet. I cook simpler meals slowly, savoring the process rather than just the result.
This slower pace has made me more mindful. I notice details I would have missed before - the way the scenery changes as I travel, the patterns of stars, stopping to watch and listen to birds as they go about their days, or searching for the Northern Lights in the middle of the night with a compass and my Iphone. I appreciate small pleasures more intensely - a hot shower after days of boondocking, the perfect cup of coffee in the morning, a conversation with a stranger that turns into friendship.
Slowing down has also allowed me more time for spontaneity. The opportunity to enjoy unexpected time with people, and to explore new places and things that weren't necessarily on my "itinerary". It's given me back the joy of being spontaneous that I thought I had lost a long time ago. The joy of a less structured lifestyle.
Many times, I'll be feeling sorry for myself and wondering how I will fill the entire day ahead of me, and I'll get a text or phone call with a request to get out of the house for a while and do something fun, which is productive in it's own right, as it helps to clear my head. Unplanned spontaneity.
I've learned to say yes more instead always saying no because I was too busy or too tired.
The most surprising thing about giving myself permission to slow down is how much more productive it's made me in the areas that truly matter. When I do work, I'm more focused. When I create, I'm more inspired. When I connect with others, I'm more present. By doing less overall, I'm doing what matters better.
There's a quote I think about often: "Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished." Living close to nature has taught me the wisdom in these words. I've realized that many of my previous deadlines and time pressures were self-imposed or societally constructed, not actual necessities.
Don't get me wrong - RV life isn't all peaceful sunsets and lazy mornings. There are stressful days and real responsibilities. But I've developed the ability to determine what genuinely deserves my urgency and what can unfold at its own pace. That discernment has been one of the greatest gifts. My nervous system thanks me daily.
My Relationship With Nature
Living in an RV has completely transformed my relationship with the natural world. Before, nature was something I occasionally visited - a weekend hike here, a trip to the beach there. Now, it's my backdrop, my neighborhood, my constant companion.
I've parked overlooking oceans, mountains, deserts, and forests. I've watched the sun rise over the ocean and set over the gulf. I've fallen asleep to the sound of rain on the roof and woken up to deer grazing outside my window.
This proximity to nature has made me more aware of its rhythms. I notice the phases of the moon now. I can read weather patterns. I understand how the position of the sun affects the temperature inside my home. These aren't things I ever thought about in my house.
I've also become much more environmentally conscious. When you physically carry your water in and your waste out, you develop a visceral understanding of consumption. I'm acutely aware of how much water I use when showering, how much trash I generate, and how much electricity my appliances consume.
My carbon footprint has decreased dramatically, not just because I live in a smaller space that requires less energy to heat and cool, but because my entire lifestyle has shifted. I buy less, waste less, and think more about my impact.
This connection to nature has become central to my identity. I feel a responsibility to protect these beautiful places that have become my temporary homes. And I find myself gravitating toward other people who share this value.
I'm More In Tune With Myself
RV life stripped away a lot of the noise. No more office commutes, no packed schedules. It’s just me, nature, and a lot of quiet.
I’ve had time to reflect, journal, meditate, heal and even cry. Living in nature has grounded me in a way I never expected.
I’ve learned who I really am without all the external pressures. And I've found that I like her a lot.
Community and Relationships
One of the biggest misconceptions about RV life is that it's isolating or lonely. My experience has been the exact opposite. I've found a type of community I never had in my stationary life, where I could go days without any meaningful interaction with neighbors.
The RV community is unlike anything I've experienced before. There's an instant connection, a shared understanding. We help each other back into tight spots, share tips about boondocking locations, loan tools, and celebrate holidays and birthdays together.
What's unique about these relationships is their intensity and fluidity. You might meet someone, become fast friends for a week while parked at the same campground, then part ways - only to reunite months later in a completely different state.
I've learned to be more open, to form connections quickly, and to be comfortable with temporary relationships. At the same time, I've maintained deeper friendships with a handful of RVers whose travel patterns sometimes align with mine.
As for my relationships with family and old friends, those have evolved too. The distance can be challenging, but when we do connect, it's intentional and meaningful. Technology helps - I video chat regularly with my family and close friends. And when I do visit in person, I'm fully present, knowing our time together is limited.
RV life has taught me that community isn't defined by proximity or permanence. It's about genuine connection, mutual support, and shared values, regardless of how long it lasts.
Flexibility and Adaptability
If there's one skill you develop quickly in RV life, it's adaptability. When you live on the road, plans change constantly - sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity.
I've had to reroute due to wildfires, find last-minute accommodations during mechanical breakdowns, and adapt to unexpected weather. I've learned to troubleshoot everything from plumbing issues to electrical problems. I've become my own handyman, meteorologist, and travel agent.
Before RV life, I was someone who liked control and predictability. I'd get anxious when things didn't go according to plan. Now, I expect the unexpected. I build buffer days into my schedule. I always have backup options.
This adaptability has spilled over into all areas of my life. I'm more resilient, more resourceful, and less rattled by challenges. I've developed what I call "productive patience" - the ability to wait out difficulties while taking whatever constructive action I can.
Living this way has also made me more present. When plans are fluid and tomorrow's location might change, you learn to appreciate where you are right now. I no longer rush through experiences just to get to the next thing on my schedule.
Perhaps most importantly, I've learned that most problems aren't as catastrophic as they seem in the moment. A breakdown that strands you for three days becomes a funny story later. A route change due to weather might lead to discovering your new favorite place.
Seeing the World Differently
When you live on the road, you see how different every little pocket of the country is. The people, the accents, the landscapes, even the grocery stores!
I’ve talked to people from all over the country, and the world! It’s made me more open-minded, more curious, and way less judgmental.
It turns out, we’ve all got more in common than we think.
Financial Mindset
Let's talk about money, because RV life has completely reconstructed my financial mindset. Contrary to what many assume, this lifestyle isn't necessarily cheaper than living in a house or apartment - it's just expensive in different ways.
What's changed is how I think about spending, earning, and saving. Before, I was trapped in the traditional work-spend cycle. I worked to pay for my house, my car, my stuff... and I spent most of what I earned.
Now, I've embraced what some call a "minimum viable income" approach. I've figured out exactly how much money I need to sustain my lifestyle, and I work just enough to meet that threshold, plus having savings for emergencies and future plans.
This has meant developing location-independent income streams and being more intentional about when and how I work. Sometimes I'll intensely work for a few weeks in a place with good internet, then travel for a month with minimal work commitments.
My spending priorities have shifted dramatically. I spend very little on household items or clothes, but I budget for experiences, national park passes, stays at campgrounds with amenities when I need them, and sometimes unique tours of places I get to visit. My biggest expenses are vehicle maintenance, fuel, and insurance - the costs of mobility.
The financial freedom isn't about having more money - it's about needing less to be happy, and having more control over how I earn and spend what I do have. That's been incredibly empowering.
Personal Identity and Future Outlook
Perhaps the most profound change has been in how I see myself and my future. Before RV life, I was following a prescribed path - career advancement, home ownership, retirement savings. I measured success by conventional milestones.
Two years on the road has completely dismantled that framework. I've had to redefine success on my own terms. What does achievement look like when you're not climbing a traditional career ladder? What does security mean when your home has wheels?
I've discovered parts of myself I never knew existed. I'm more creative, more resourceful, more comfortable with uncertainty than I ever thought possible. I've developed new skills and interests simply because I've had to to save money or I’ve been exposed to different environments, experiences and people.
As for the future, I honestly don't know if I'll live in an RV forever. And that's okay. This lifestyle has taught me that I don't need to have everything figured out. Plans can change. Homes can be temporary. Careers can evolve.
What I do know is that I don’t want to go back to my old definition of "normal." Whatever comes next - whether I continue traveling, settle somewhere part-time, or create some hybrid lifestyle - will be informed by what I've learned on the road.
Two years of RV life has fundamentally changed me. From redefining what "enough" truly means to slowing down and savoring each day, from rethinking my relationship with possessions to finding new forms of community - this journey has transformed me in ways I never expected.
Two years ago, I was nervous and excited and emotional and honestly had no idea what I was getting into. But RV life has shaped me into a stronger, more grounded, more grateful version of myself.
I'm not saying RV life is for everyone. It comes with real challenges real and sacrifices. But for me, those challenges have been worth it for the growth and perspective I've gained.
I'd love to know what you think. Are you considering this lifestyle? Or have you made a major life change that transformed you in unexpected ways? Drop a message below and let's continue the conversation.
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Hi there! I'm Nancy.
In 2023, I ditched my heels for hiking boots, sold my house, and decided to travel the US full time in my 2005 Lazy Daze Class C RV.
I love to share the places I travel to and what it's like to live in an RV full-time.
If you have ever thought about hitting the road and traveling in an RV, either in your free time or full time, you are in the right place!
Follow along for weekly blog posts about my adventures as I travel the US with my two dogs, Rufus and Willie, and my cat, Katie.