Today is the official close of a chapter I never wanted to close. My husband Matt and I lived off grid in a tiny house on wheels with our doggies Chloe and Webber for 3.5 years, it had been our dream for many years before that.
Our aspiration became reality when in late 2020, my Dad Kevin hinted we would be welcome to park a tiny house on the property where I grew up. So we sold almost everything we owned, bought a second-hand tiny house, and moved to Dunghutti Country in the hinterland of the Mid North Coast.
There was so much work to do, and it was exhausting, but I felt connected to the land like I did in childhood. We found peace surrounded by the bush and wildlife, woke with the sunrise, built an abundant veggie garden.
There were challenges living and working together in a small space, and remotely off grid, but living minimally felt right, and tiny house living quickly became a huge part of our identity.
We were interviewed by Sarah Wilson for Compass on the ABC when we first moved in, the episode was called Too Much Stuff, and you can still watch it on iView HERE. We had a large following on Instagram, but I shut it down after it dawned on me I was turning every experience into content instead of being in the moment.
We moved to Newcastle last year because Matt was offered a role at The University of Newcastle that he couldn’t pass up. We lived in cities most of our adult lives before that, but intentionally moved to the bush for a simpler, more peaceful life.
Our original plan had been to keep the tiny and eventually move it onto our own land, live in it whilst we built a small permanent house, and I’d hoped the tiny would become my studio. We thought in the meantime we’d use it as a weekender, but that didn’t happen as my weekends were taken up with doing markets, and the weekends we did manage to retreat to the tiny, there was always so much property maintenance to do we didn’t get to relax.
We had to face the reality we had to let it go, so we put it on the market, and it took six months to sell. It’s been a stressful time travelling back and forth showing it to prospective buyers, then to prepare it for the move when it finally sold.
I didn’t feel such sadness when we sold our unit in Brisbane, but let’s face it, there’s nothing special or fulfilling about living in a two-bedroom unit in a shitty suburb. It’s what the system wants, for us to be disconnected from nature, living in utilitarian, uninspiring and joyless spaces, so work becomes our sole focus. The system isn’t good for any of us.
Today our tiny was towed to the new owner’s property, and I’m grieving the life I still want to be living.
I took photos of the tiny all packed up last weekend, I couldn’t bear to be there today and watch it be towed away.
I don’t feel settled in the outer ‘burbs of Newcastle, but I’m trying to make the most of it as I know it’s temporary. We still plan to buy land, have a veggie garden again, and finally plant all the fruit trees we’ve had in pots for too long in the ground. Planting those trees will represent planting our own permanent roots.
Saying goodbye to the lifestyle we dreamed of and worked so hard to create has been a long, painful process. I’ve realised feeling split between two existences has paralysed me. I’ve held onto the vision of my life that was tied to our tiny home, and I had to remind myself it was never actually meant to be permanent. The truth is, since moving I haven’t really known who I am or what to do next. I’ve been going through the motions, not feeling much passion for anything I’ve been doing.
Today I feel like this chapter coming to an end will enable me to move forward and not feel so stuck.
When Matt texted me this morning to tell me the tiny was on the road, and it had all gone smoothly, he wrote:
“Thank you for sharing that adventure with me and for being brave enough to start the next one.”
Yep, I cried. Again.
Today I felt like writing for the first time in over a year and feel a glimmer of excitement at rediscovering my WHY away from my tiny house life.
But also today, I grieve. Maybe tomorrow I’ll celebrate the freedom to move on.
Kathy x
This blog post is 100% written by me, a living, breathing human being. Absolutely no AI was used. These are all my own words and images, imperfect as they may be.
This is how I will always remember our little home.
Hi Kathy, thank you for sharing your story. I know how you must feel leaving this life behind after putting so much work into your new lifestyle. Congratulations on following your dream even if, for the moment, it is on hold. I’m sure in the not too distant future you will find your block of land, grow your veggies and plant your fruit trees. In the meantime continue to create and enjoy your artistic endeavours. I’m grateful I met you and have shared our art with each other. The cushions feel right at home and the leaves remind me of our gum trees around the home we recently left behind.
Thank you for your kind words Barb. I think because the transition from our life in the bush to suburbia was dragged out over a year, and I naively thought I’d be able to spend more time up at the tiny but couldn’t, it just made moving on so much harder. I plan to focus on photography and painting next year, and not so much selling at markets. I’m grateful we met too, and share a love of the bush and gum leaves! It’s lovely to hear the cushions are right for your home too.
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