I quit my high-paying legal career and moved into my car. It was the best decision I ever made.

27.08.2024 - 19:08 / insider.com

Someone once told me every life boils down to five major decisions —five moments when the direction we step dictates the path we'll travel until the next juncture. If it's true, I made one of those decisions in 2015 in the western reaches of Washington State. I was 33 years old and had just summitted Mount Rainier, the first glaciated peak I'd ever climbed and the most adventurous thing I'd ever done.

As the sun crested the horizon, I sat at a diner in a small town. Wrapping my hands around my coffee, I thought about the rainforest I planned to explore that day as my eyes looked out the window toward the highway's long white lines. Those lines could take me anywhere. Anywhere was a long way from the law firm at the edge of Wall Street, where I spent 70-plus hours a week. A long way from the two computer screens and never-ending to-do lists that dissolved days into weeks into months. A long way from the discontent permeating my life.

Almost seven years into my career, I'd just paid off my law school debt, was on track for partnership, and was deeply unhappy. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the work. But the work — representing financial institutions being investigated by the government — didn't give my life meaning. It was a job — a good job, but a job. And I'd made that job my entire life. I'd prioritized it over all else, including my health and, most recently, the birth of my sister's first child. A moment I'd never get back.

In that small town, gazing at the highway, I calculated how many nights of campsite fees would equal one month's rent — 240. It'd been over a decade since I owned a car, and I'd never camped alone. But by the time the scrambled eggs arrived, I'd decided to quit my job, move into a car, and live on the road, exploring America's wild places.

Over the next eight months, I quietly prepared. In a box, I collected places I wanted to visit. In a spreadsheet, I budgeted what I'd need for a year on the road, followed by another year of what I hoped would be starting anew.

Related stories

Beyond the practical preparation steps, I also worked on getting comfortable with uncertainty. Since high school, I'd followed a linear path — college to law school to law firm — and I'd long defined success through external markers like salary and prestige. That rigidity stifled other parts of myself. What would happen if I gave those parts room to grow?

Letting go of long-held notions, reinforced by a culture that prizes material wealth over all else, scared me.

A friend shared this advice: Go to what excites you, and you'll be OK. That became my motto. I quit my job and headed out on the road.

By April 2016, I'd downsized from a one-bedroom apartment to a used station wagon and was pitching a tent