Three Years Living Tiny With My Dog: Why Solo Female Nomad Life Is Worth It

After three years of living in a 60-square-foot camper with my dog, Flynn, here’s why solo female nomad life has brought me freedom, faith, family time, and peace.

In June 2025, I celebrated three full years of living on the road in about 60 square feet with my dog, Flynn.

And yes, people ask me all the time:

“Why are you doing this?”

It is a fair question.

I live in a tiny camper pulled by my SUV. There is not a lot of space. There is not a real bathroom. I have to think about water, weather, parking, driving days, internet, safety, and where Flynn and I are going to sleep.

So no, it is not always glamorous.

I am not waking up every morning to some perfect van-life view, wearing a bikini, sipping coffee beside a mountain lake. Sometimes the view is a parking lot. Sometimes it is a dusty patch of desert. Sometimes I am just grateful I found a decent place to sleep.

But even with the hard parts, this life has been good for me.

And honestly?

It has been good for Flynn, too.

Living tiny has given us freedom. It has helped me see family, meet good people, travel to beautiful places, and build memories I would never have made if I had stayed stuck in the life I had before.

So here is the real story of why I chose solo female nomad life, what I have learned after three years, and why I am still choosing this simple, strange, peaceful life on the road.

I Think I Always Wanted to Run Free

When I was little, my family had one of those huge refrigerator boxes. I do not remember if my parents had bought a refrigerator or if it came from a neighbor, but I remember the box.

And for some reason, little me announced:

“I want to run away.”

My parents did not panic. They handed me the box.

The neighborhood kids came over, decorated it, and wished me “bon voyage” — or probably something close to that in kid language.

I was happy as a clam in my little cardboard house.

At least until I got hungry.

There was no kitchen in that thing, and I was too young to know how to cook anyway.

Looking back, I do not think I really wanted to run away. I think I wanted to run free.

I wanted to see things. Do things. Get out into the world.

That desire never completely left me.

It just took a few decades, a pandemic, and a whole lot of life for me to finally listen to it.

The Pandemic Changed What I Wanted

Not long before the pandemic, I had found my birth parents and some of my siblings.

Technically, they are half-siblings, but family is family.

Then the pandemic hit.

Like so many people, I suddenly could not visit anyone. I could not see the family I grew up with. I could not build the new relationships I had just found. I could not go where I wanted to go.

And I was not a happy woman.

That season made something very clear to me:

Time with people you love is not guaranteed.

I started looking at my life differently. I wanted less cost, less pressure, and more freedom. I started researching every possible way I could live differently.

Tiny houses. School buses. Vans. Tourist buses. U-Haul vans. Land in Florida. A truck pulling a tiny house. Camper setups. Cargo trailers.

I researched all of it.

I even rented a U-Haul van and camped out of it with Flynn for two nights.

That experiment taught me a lot, including what I did not want.

Eventually, I realized the best option was not a perfect option. It was just the option I could actually make work:

A small camper pulled by the SUV I already owned.

Why I Chose a Tiny Camper

My setup is not ideal for everyone.

It is tiny. Really tiny.

But there are only two of us: me and Flynn.

And the tiny size is also part of what makes this life possible.

A bigger rig sounds nice sometimes. I am not going to lie about that. More room would be lovely. But a bigger rig also means more money, more fuel, more maintenance, and fewer places I can easily go.

My small camper has helped me reach places I could not have reached in a huge RV.

At one point, I had a larger converted camper that I loved. It was a 7×14 tandem axle cargo trailer, and I had someone convert it for me. I thought it would be perfect. And it was… but not for me.

Once I started to tow it with my SUV, I knew it was too much.

People may tell you an SUV can tow 5,000 pounds or more. My advice?

Be very careful with those numbers. I recommend cutting that number in half or two-thirds.

Just because a vehicle technically can tow something does not mean you will feel safe or comfortable pulling it over hills or mountains or up long, long grades or in bad weather. If you want a bigger trailer, get the right tow vehicle. Do not let a salesperson talk you into something that feels wrong in your gut.

I wanted a setup I had full confidence in.

So I went smaller.

And smaller has worked.

The Biggest Gift: I Can See My Family

The biggest reason I live this way is simple:

I can see my family and loved ones.

I can move from state to state. I can park in a side yard, on family land, or near someone I love. I can stay longer than a regular vacation would allow.

That has mattered more than I can explain.

My sister Kate and her husband Steve have five acres in Colorado. Last year, I stayed there much longer than I expected — about four months — because I was helping with our elderly parents.

And I am so grateful I could do that.

I have also been able to visit family in other states, including my brother near Nashville and my birth mom in Washington.

When you live this way, you are not just popping in for a week and then rushing back to a job, a house, and a rigid schedule. You can become part of people’s lives for a little while.

You can make real memories.

And after the pandemic, after almost losing some loved ones, and then after losing my birth dad a few years later, those memories mean everything to me.

Because here is the truth:

You cannot take your SUV with you when you die.

You cannot take your camper.

You cannot take the stuff.

But the memories?

Those matter.

How I Afford Life on the Road

I work online.

I am not working in the field my master’s degree is in anymore, and I am not in education now. But I do work I enjoy, and it helps me keep going.

My biggest advice is this:

Do not quit your job and then try to figure everything out from scratch unless you absolutely have to.

I did not start this lifestyle in the most perfectly planned way. I had savings, and that is what saved me. I had already been thinking about this life, preparing, and putting money away.

If you want to live on the road someday, start preparing now. Or heck, if you want to take some memorable camping trips, do the same!

Save money. Test different rigs. Borrow or rent before buying if you can. Build online income before you need it. Learn what kind of travel you actually enjoy (there are SO many different kinds of camping).

Because this life can be cheaper, but only if you are very intentional.

Here are some of the ways I keep costs down:

• I boondock for free when I can, especially out West.
• I stay on family or a friend’s property when it works for everyone. (I contribute toward electric or give gift cards so no one feels I am not taking advantage.)
• I look for low-cost campgrounds through county, city, or local options.
• I use memberships like Harvest Hosts when they make sense.
• I stay put longer instead of constantly driving.

That last one matters.

Moving often gets expensive. Gas adds up fast. If you want to save money on the road, staying in one area for a while is one of the best things you can do.

I have spent several winters in Arizona because I can stay there affordably (free!), enjoy the sunshine, and avoid freezing weather.

Do I get restless after four or five months?

Absolutely.

That is when I take day trips, explore nearby towns, visit places like Lake Havasu or Yuma, train Flynn, meet people, and find ways to keep life interesting.

Tiny Living Is Not Always Easy

I do not want to romanticize this.

Living tiny has hard parts.

You have to think about water. You have to think about bathrooms. You have to think about where you are allowed to park, how long you can stay, and whether the place feels safe.

Sometimes overnight stops are loud. Walmart parking lots, Cracker Barrel lots, and rest areas can be useful, but they are not peaceful little retreats. There may be loud diesel trucks running all night, highway noise, lights, people coming and going, and all the things that come with public overnight parking.

You also have to learn how you travel best.

Some people want to move constantly. Some people want to stay put for months. Some people need a larger rig. Some people are fine in a van. Some people want campgrounds with the all amenities (electric, water, dump, activities). Some people want public land.

There is no one perfect way to do this.

You have to be patient with yourself while you figure it out.

For me, the best rhythm is a mix of movement and stillness.

I like to travel, but I also need time to work, rest, save money, and get to know an area.

My World Got Bigger, Not Smaller

Before this lifestyle, I lived in a small one-bedroom condo in Florida. It was fine. I had some kind neighbors, and Flynn and I lived about a mile from the beach.

That sounds lovely, and in many ways it was.

But my world felt small.

I felt lonely sometimes. I felt very single. I felt like my life was limited to the same few places and routines.

Now my physical space is smaller, but my actual life feels much bigger.

I have met people all over the country. I have friends in different states. I have people who ask me to come back and visit. I have stayed on people’s land, shared stories, learned from them, and carried those stories with me.

It reminds me a little of the old Pony Express idea of slow mail but gathering news and updates as you go.

You stop in one place, hear what is happening in someone’s life, share a little of your own news, and then move on down the road.

It is a full life.

Not always an easy life.

But a full one.

What This Life Has Given Me

After three years, one of the biggest things I have gained is confidence.

I know I can figure things out.

I know I can handle more than I thought.

I know I can make choices, solve problems, change direction, and keep going.

That does not mean I think I am in control of everything. I do not.

My faith has grown so much through this lifestyle.

There have been times when I needed help, and the right people showed up. I do not really believe those moments are random. I believe God has helped me through this journey in ways I could not have planned on my own.

This has been a spiritual journey for me.

Seeing the beauty God created has changed me.

Meeting kind people from so many different backgrounds has changed me.

Watching the news can make you feel like everyone hates each other. But out here, I have met people from all kinds of places, beliefs, and backgrounds, and most people are just trying to live their lives, be kind, and get along.

That has restored something in me.

My faith in God.

My faith in people.

And honestly, my faith in myself.

Flynn Makes It Even More Meaningful

Of course, Flynn is a huge part of this story.

He has been with me through all of it.

He has seen deserts, lakes, mountains, sunsets, beaches, trails, and tiny little towns I never would have visited otherwise.

Someday, I will lose him. I hate even writing that, but it is true.

And when that day comes, I will have so many photos and videos of him living this adventurous little life beside me.

That matters to me.

These are the memories I will treasure forever.

Not just of places, but of us.

Me and my dog.

Figuring it out.

One mile at a time.

Would I Choose This Life Again?

Yes.

Even with the hard parts.

Even with the water runs, bathroom issues, loud overnight stops, long drives, and tiny living challenges.

I would choose it again.

Because this life has given me a peace and happiness I did not have before.

I have lived in a big house on over 100 acres. I have lived near the beach. I have tried living simply in a small apartment.

But this life has simplified something deeper in me.

When you are sitting in the desert, with quiet all around you, you have to face yourself. You have to think about what matters. You have to let go of some things. You have to trust God in new ways.

For me, that has brought peace.

I may not live this way forever full-time. Someday, I may want a piece of land or a home base for part of the year.

But I cannot imagine wanting to stay in one place all year, every year, without getting out to see the world.

There is too much beauty to see.

Too many people to meet.

Too many loved ones to hug!

Too many memories still waiting.

Thinking About Traveling With Your Dog?

If you are watching my life and feeling a little envious, please do not.

You do not have to sell everything and move into a tiny camper tomorrow.

Start smaller.

Take a day trip with your dog. Try one overnight camping trip. Visit one dog-friendly place near you. Learn what feels peaceful, safe, and manageable.

This lifestyle is not easy, but it is possible.

And you do not have to do it all at once.

If you want to start building a more peaceful, adventurous life with your dog, begin with one brave step.

That is enough for today.

How about you:
Would you ever live tiny or travel solo with your dog? What part sounds exciting — and what part sounds hard?

Leave a comment and tell me. I would love to hear your story.

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