Thirty days in, here's what nobody tells you about living in an RV full-time: it's not really about the RV.
It's about how much of your old life was optional. The stuff I thought I couldn't live without turned out to be the easiest to let go of. The stuff I underestimated — a reliable spot to work from, knowing where tomorrow's parking is, a few square feet that feel like "mine" — that's what actually took adjusting to.
Some honest firsts: the first time I had to problem-solve a water hookup alone. The first time a "quick stop" turned into staying somewhere for four extra days because I just didn't want to leave. The first time I realized I hadn't checked my old calendar in over a week and didn't miss it.
It wasn't all ease. There were nights I second-guessed the whole decision, usually tied to being tired, hungry, or lost — never actually about whether this was the right call. That distinction mattered more than I expected.
One month in, the biggest shift isn't the scenery. It's that I stopped narrating my life to make it sound acceptable to other people, and started just living it.