Vanlife isn’t always aesthetic. Sometimes it’s solitude that cuts deep. Sometimes it’s healing that arrives unannounced. In this piece, I reflect on the places I’ve cried—out of grief, out of release, out of pride. And how those moments, while quiet and deeply personal, shaped my ability to keep choosing myself—even when it felt heavy.
Some of the Most Beautiful Places I’ve Been, I Had to Break First
No one really talks about the way travel makes you feel. How stillness in a new place holds a mirror. How driving alone gives your thoughts way too much room. How silence in the woods can either soothe you—or call out something you’ve been avoiding.
This isn’t a list of destinations. It’s a collection of moments that reshaped me. Places I cried. Places I didn’t expect to. Places I healed a little bit just by being brave enough to show up.
1. Somewhere Off a Dirt Road in Arizona
It was one of those unexpected turns I took just to “see what’s down there.” The sun was dropping behind the rocks. The road was too quiet. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in days. And the silence caught up with me. I cried because I didn’t know what I was doing—out here, in life. But I stayed. I sat with it. I let the earth hold me.
Lesson: You can feel lost and still be exactly where you need to be.
2. In the Driver’s Seat Outside a Gas Station in New Mexico
It was supposed to be a quick stop, but the weight of the journey hit me. I hadn’t showered in two days. I was exhausted. I missed comfort. But more than that—I realized I wasn’t doing this to escape. I was doing this to prove something to myself. I cried for who I used to be. I cried for who I was becoming.
Lesson: Healing isn’t glamorous. But it’s real. And sometimes it shows up in parking lots.
3. Under a Canopy of Pines Somewhere in Oregon
I found a campsite tucked away in the forest, completely off-grid. It felt like the world disappeared. I journaled for hours. Lit a candle. Listened to my breath. The tears came—not from sadness, but from softness. I felt safe in a way I hadn’t in years. I didn’t need service or a signal. I just needed that moment with myself.
Lesson: Peace isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just the sound of your own voice echoing back at you.
4. On the Floor of My Van During a Storm
The rain was loud. The kind that feels like it’s asking you to listen. I was parked on a cliff in California. I’d just made a big decision—one I knew some people wouldn’t understand. But I chose it anyway. I cried for the courage it took to honor my own path. I cried because I was proud.
Lesson: You can be scared and brave at the same time. You’re still allowed to keep going.
5. Anywhere I Let Myself Feel Without Explaining
There were plenty of tears that didn’t need a story. Tears that showed up after a song, a sunset, a voice memo from someone I missed. But every time I gave myself space to feel, something in me unclenched. It didn’t mean I had it all figured out—but it meant I wasn’t running anymore.
Lesson: The road doesn’t fix you. But it gives you room to feel it all—and start again.
Final Word
I didn’t start this journey looking to fall apart. But I did—piece by piece, mile by mile. And in the falling, I found so many versions of myself I’d buried under other people’s expectations. In the silence. In the solitude. In the stretch of sky above me.
Crying on the road isn’t a breakdown. Sometimes, it’s the beginning of your breakthrough.
If you’ve ever cried alone in a place no one else will ever know—just know you’re not alone in that.
Tag @MoodyStudiosCo and share your healing-in-transit story. There’s power in naming where we softened.
