In 2020, the world shut down, and so did my life. My business collapsed, and I went from “successful” to “homeless in a 1988 Dodge Ram Van” almost overnight. It wasn’t a glamorous #vanlife Instagram moment; it was a necessity. I didn’t tell anyone—not my family, not my friends. For that first year, I was a ghost, haunted by the shame of being 37, single…
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