We did everything right — or so we thought. My husband James and I got married, built careers, had kids and bought a home. But five years ago, we sold nearly everything we owned and moved into a fifth-wheel trailer with our three young kids and two dogs.
When we bought our house years ago, it felt like we’d finally arrived. But before the boxes were even unpacked, something felt off, and little by little, the life we’d built began to come apart.
As the years went by, James’s injuries from his time serving in the military began to worsen more quickly than we’d anticipated. A surgery intended to fix these injuries revealed irreversible damage. It became clear that the physically demanding career he’d trained for his entire life was no longer possible. Meanwhile, I was raising three kids, supporting James, managing our household, and barely keeping my head above water financially.
We struggled intensely, nearly lost the house, and eventually filed for bankruptcy. It was the lowest point in our lives.
Amid this uncertainty, I felt paralyzed by fear — terrified that even if we lost the house, moved and bought another home, I might hate the new location. I couldn’t bear the thought of uprooting our family again, only to find myself trapped once more.
