Starrs Aboard

When we first decided to sell everything and hit the road in our RV, the plan was pretty simple. Sell the house, sell the furniture, get rid of almost everything we own, and if we absolutely had to, rent a tiny storage unit for whatever we couldn’t part with.

Simple, right?

Well, that was the plan. And as I’m learning, plans have a funny way of changing once you actually start living them.

We’re getting ready to trade a house with over 3,000 square feet of living space for an RV with roughly 300.

That’s a 90% reduction in living space.

And you know what? I’m genuinely excited about it.

I’m excited about the freedom, the adventures, the places we’ll see, and the life we’re choosing to build. I don’t need a big house full of stuff to be happy.

But lately, something has started to shift.

The Reality of Letting Go

It started, at least from my perspective, out in the barn.

Ed has been working his way through years of accumulated tools, equipment, and everything else that seems to find its way into a barn over the last 11 years.

And I’ve started noticing little comments.

“Well, I’m going to need tools when we get back.”

“I really don’t want to sell my toolboxes.”

“We’re probably going to need a storage unit.”

He hasn’t come out and said he doesn’t want to get rid of everything. I don’t want to put words in his mouth.

But I hear those little comments, and the more I think about them, the more I realize something.

Maybe I don’t want to get rid of absolutely everything either.

We’re Changing Our Lives, Not Erasing Them

Here’s the thing.

We’re not getting rid of everything because we’re unhappy with the lives we’ve lived.

Quite the opposite.

We’ve built a life together. We’ve worked hard. We’ve collected things over the years, some useful, some sentimental, and some that probably should have gone to Goodwill a decade ago!

And yes, there’s plenty of stuff we can happily live without.

But there are also things that represent who we are.

Ed’s tools are a perfect example. He’s spent a lifetime collecting them. They’re useful, they’re valuable, and someday, when we settle down again, he’s going to want them.

And I have things of my own. Things I’ve collected over the years that mean something to me. Things that hold memories. Things that I know I’ll want in our next home.

Because we’re planning to have a house again someday.

We don’t know exactly when or where, but we’re not necessarily saying goodbye to having a home forever.

So does it make sense to sell everything we’ve spent a lifetime acquiring, only to turn around and buy it all again someday?

I’m starting to think maybe not.

The Storage Unit Dilemma

Now, don’t get me wrong. I absolutely hate the thought of paying for storage.

There’s something about paying monthly rent for stuff you’re not even using that just doesn’t sit right with me.

And storage units aren’t without problems.

They’re expensive. They can get broken into. And depending on what you’re storing and where, there’s always the possibility of damage.

Then there’s the question of how long we’ll need it.

A year? Three years? Five?

Those monthly payments can add up to a pretty significant amount of money, and I certainly don’t want to end up spending more to store something than it would cost to replace it.

But I’m starting to realize that not everything can be measured by its replacement cost.

Some things simply can’t be replaced.

And other things would be awfully expensive to buy all over again.

So maybe the question isn’t whether we should get a storage unit.

Maybe the question is, what’s actually worth paying to keep?

Finding Our Way Together

There’s another part of this journey that I’ve been thinking about lately.

By the time I brought up the idea of selling everything and hitting the road, I’d already lived with it for a while in my head.

I’d thought about what we’d be giving up, what we’d be gaining, and what life might look like.

So when I finally said it out loud, I think I genuinely shocked Ed.

He’s absolutely on board, but there’s a difference between saying yes in theory and standing in the barn looking at a lifetime of tools and having to decide what to do with them.

Maybe I had a head start on processing this enormous change.

At least, that’s how I see it.

And the funny thing is, as he’s talked more about keeping his tools, I’ve started rethinking some of my own decisions, too.

We might have started from different places, but I think we’re finding our way toward the same destination.

We’re still selling the house, still getting rid of most of what we own, still excited to hit the road together with Charlie and Barkley.

We’re just figuring out what we’re comfortable leaving behind.

Because the goal was never to get rid of our past.

It was to make room for our future.

And if that means a storage unit along the way, well, I think I can live with that.

Because we’re changing how we live, not who we are.

And I happen to like who we are.