The High Cost of Living in the Bay Area: Why I Chose an Alternative Lifestyle

Living in Northern California has its perks—stunning coastlines, vibrant communities, and a lifestyle that’s hard to beat. But let’s be real: the price of that lifestyle can crush you. Rent alone in the Bay Area can rival a mortgage, and when I looked at the numbers, I had to ask myself: Why am I working this hard just to stay afloat?

Northern California has its perks—stunning coastlines, vibrant communities, and a lifestyle that’s hard to beat.

I’m a photographer, a surfer, and a single dad. Life didn’t go as planned. In November 2020, my ex-wife decided she didn’t want to be married anymore. In an instant, everything I’d spent over 15 years building—my family, my home, my career—was gone. The business I had poured my life into disappeared almost overnight. I was left asking myself one question: What now? I didn’t have an answer. And to be honest, I’m still figuring it out.

There are days when it’s not easy, when I wonder if I’ll ever feel like I’ve truly landed on my feet. But in the face of all that uncertainty, I decided to take a chance on something different. The truth is, I don’t have my kids full-time, and that reality made it possible to consider an unconventional path. I traded a fixed address for four wheels and the open road. My van isn’t just my home—it’s my way forward.

I traded a fixed address for four wheels and the open road.

The Bay Area is beautiful, but it comes with a price tag that makes you question if it’s worth it. Between rent, child costs, and the day-to-day grind, I felt like I was constantly playing catch-up. I’ve seen so many people around me chasing this idea of success that’s tied to stuff—big houses, fancy cars, all of it. But after losing everything, I realized I didn’t want that. I didn’t need it. I wanted time, flexibility, and a life that actually felt like mine.

Vanlife isn’t about running away; it’s about running toward something better. For me, it’s a way to simplify, cut unnecessary expenses, and focus on what I care about—photography, surfing, and my kids. When I don’t have my kids, my van lets me go wherever inspiration strikes. One day, I’m editing photos by the ocean. The next, I’m chasing the golden hour on the coast.

And when I do have my kids, the van becomes a launching pad for adventures. We can camp, explore, and make memories that don’t rely on four walls and a roof. There’s something freeing about living minimally. It forces you to focus on what really matters. I don’t need a lot of stuff—just the essentials and the freedom to live the way I want.

My Sprinter doubles as my office.

Starting a photography business from a van has it’s challenges, but isn’t complicated. My Sprinter doubles as my office, with enough space for my gear and a portable setup that keeps me connected. Mornings are my favorite. I’ll make coffee with the sliding door open, watching the waves roll in while I prep for the day. Some mornings, I’m editing photos; other mornings, I’m packing up for a surf session. It’s a rhythm that feels natural and aligned with who I am. When I have my kids, the focus shifts to them. We use the van to explore the coast, or just hang out in a beautiful spot. They love the freedom, and I love giving them outdoor experiences I had growing up.

I love giving them experiences I had growing up.

I won’t sugarcoat it—vanlife has its challenges. Finding parking can be a headache, and living in a small space means getting creative with storage. There’s also the co-parenting dynamic, which adds its own layer of complexity. And then there’s the mental side of it. Starting over isn’t a straight path. There are moments when I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water. But here’s the thing: none of the challenges outweigh the benefits. The trade-off for a smaller space is waking up to ocean views. The hassle of finding a parking spot is nothing compared to the freedom of being untethered.

I am grateful for moments like this. I get to choose what my view will look like when I wake up.

This lifestyle isn’t about what I’ve given up—it’s about what I’ve gained. I have more time to focus on my photography, more freedom to surf, and more opportunities to connect with my kids in meaningful ways. Living this way has also shifted my perspective. Success, for me, isn’t about owning a house or climbing some invisible ladder. It’s about waking up excited for the day ahead, capturing moments that inspire me, and creating a life that feels full.

Vanlife might not be for everyone, but it works for me. It’s helped me strip away the noise and focus on what’s real—my kids, my creativity, and the moments that make life worth living.

If you’re feeling stuck in the grind, maybe it’s time to rethink what “home” or “success” means to you. Sometimes, breaking the mold is the only way to find a life that feels truly yours. Got questions about van life or just curious about what it’s like? I’d love to hear your thoughts—drop a comment or reach out!