Gifts of Going it Alone: Why Solo RV Travel is So Empowering for Women

Gifts of Going it Alone: Why Solo RV Travel is So Empowering for Women
Freedom, fear, and the life-changing magic of hitting the road on your own.

By: Morgan Field

Hey, I’m Morgan Field—life coach, author, part-time van-lifer, and full-time believer in the magic of living true to you. I travel the open road in my 2019 Winnebago Travato 59K with my fur bestie Teddy—a four-legged heart-melter, with a legendary cuddle game and a million-dollar smile. Together, we manifest adventure, inhale freedom, exhale expectations, and trade the noise of the world for the kind of moments that make your soul sigh.

I’ve made it my mission to help women ditch the script and write their own wild, empowered lives. Through my books and coaching, I’ve guided women around the world back to their true selves. That’s why this post means so much to me.

Solo RV life isn’t just about traveling—it’s about transforming. Every twist in the road, every sunrise in a new zip code, every quiet night under the stars, cracks you open just a little more. Until one day, you realize you’re no longer just on a trip—you’re on a full-blown becoming.

This post is a love letter to that journey. To the road that heals, reveals, and reclaims. If you’ve ever felt the nudge to wander, to wonder, to wake up to more—this one’s for you.

You Get to Make Decisions Based on YOU

Reclaiming personal identity and self-worth through everyday choices.

As women, we’re often conditioned to please—to read the room, anticipate needs, and keep the peace. Over time, this can cause us to lose sight of what we actually want. Our desires get buried under caretaking, compromise, and the constant hum of doing what’s “best for everyone else.”

But when you hit the road solo, something powerful begins to unfold. In the quiet of your own company, every small choice becomes an act of self-remembrance. Not rebellion, remembrance. You remember who you are when no one else is pulling on your energy. You start making choices—not out of obligation, but from your own center. From your own joy.

This reconnection doesn’t require a dramatic reinvention. It begins in the details: choosing what to cook because you love it, arranging your space in a way that lights you up, following your own curiosity without needing to justify it. In those small, intentional decisions, you send yourself a message: I matter. My joy matters.

And little by little, you begin to trust yourself again. You build a relationship with the most important person in your life—you. You stop asking permission and start creating beauty and meaning just for you. The version of you that had been waiting quietly under the weight of everyone else’s needs? She comes alive.

Reflection Questions

If you’re ready to reconnect with your inner voice and design a life around her, consider these questions:

• In what ways have I been putting myself and my joy on the backburner?
• What small choices could I make this week that are just for me—with no one else in mind?
• What does freedom actually feel like in my body and mind—and how can I create more of that feeling each day?
• What are some things that truly excite me and bring me joy?
• If I were to give myself a permission slip for more joy today, what might I do?

Whether you're on the road or dreaming of it, these questions are an invitation: to choose yourself, little by little, moment by moment. And that is where true empowerment begins.

You Become the Captain of Your Own Ship

Reclaiming rhythm, pace, and inner authority.

What if you could wake up tomorrow and do whatever you want, with no one else to consult or accommodate? That’s not a fantasy—that’s solo RV life.

No compromising over where to stop for the night or how long to stay. No one telling you to hurry up or slow down. It’s just you, your instincts, and the road stretching ahead. And for many of us, this kind of freedom feels radical—because we've been taught to hustle and rush toward the next thing.

But something shifts when you start living at the pace of you.

You learn to feel the difference between restlessness and readiness. You pause—not because you’re tired, but because the sunset is too beautiful to leave behind. You stay longer—not because someone said it’s a “must-see,” but because your spirit feels safe there.

You begin to trust your own timing. You stop needing validation or consensus. You become the one who gets to decide when to go, when to rest, when to pivot.

That kind of self-trust doesn’t come from external approval. It comes from slowing down and listening inward. It comes from choosing not based on what you “should” do, but what your body, your heart, your soul are asking for. And that’s where confidence is born.

You’re not behind. You’re not too late. You’re not too much. You’re exactly on time—when you’re following your time.

Reflection Questions

Here are some questions to help you gently reconnect with your inner rhythm and practice self-led pacing:

• What pace would feel most nourishing for me today—physically, emotionally, spiritually?
• If I trusted my inner guidance completely, what would my next adventure look and feel like?
• Where in my life am I rushing—and what might I be avoiding by not slowing down?
• What sensations do I notice in my body when I feel hurried or overwhelmed?
• What’s one simple way I could create more spaciousness and presence for myself today?

This isn’t just a road trip—it’s a reclamation. Of your time. Your energy. Your rhythm. And you are worthy of that kind of sovereignty.

Fear Turns Into Fuel

Transforming self-doubt into courage and capability.

Here’s the truth most people won’t say: the fear doesn’t go away. But your relationship with it? That changes everything.

Solo RV life is like exposure therapy, wrapped in adventure. You’re scared of driving that big rig? You do it anyway. Nervous backing into that tight campsite? You try. The map goes blank, your cell signal disappears, and your stomach flips—but somehow, you still figure it out.

And that’s the magic. You stop waiting to feel “ready” and start learning by doing. You stop asking, “Can I handle this?” and start saying, “I’m handling it.”

Every hose you connect, every roadside hiccup you troubleshoot, every unfamiliar sound you investigate—these moments build a new foundation in your brain. You shift from fear to evidence. From doubt to data. From “I don’t know how” to “I’m figuring it out.”

The fear doesn’t vanish. It just loses its grip. Not because the road is easy—but because you’re braver than you thought. That bravery builds in small, gritty, unglamorous ways. Not in grand declarations, but in the moment you keep going even when your hands are shaking. When you whisper, “I’ve got me,” and mean it.

Fear becomes less of a stop sign—and more of a signal. A signal that says: You’re on the edge of something important. You’re expanding. You’re alive.

So instead of waiting for fear to disappear, what if you walked with it? Not to be fearless—but to be free.

Reflection Questions

Here are a few questions to help reframe fear as your ally and move forward with intention:

• What fear has been quietly keeping me from something I truly desire?
• What have I been telling myself I’m “not ready” for—and what if readiness isn’t required to begin?
• What’s one thing I’ve been avoiding because it feels too overwhelming—and what would it look like to break it into a small, doable step?
• If I treated fear as a companion instead of a barrier, how might I show up differently?
• When I imagine facing this fear and coming out the other side—how does that version of me feel? What does she know?

Fear doesn’t mean stop. It means stretch. So go ahead—drive the rig. Learn the thing. Take the leap. Because the version of you waiting on the other side? She’s grounded, gritty, glowing. And she knows you’ve got this.

Your Intuition Becomes Your Compass

Learning to navigate with your inner knowing.

Something most travel guides won’t teach you is that the most reliable GPS you have isn’t mounted on your dashboard, it’s your gut.

When you travel solo, there’s no one to override that quiet inner whisper. No need to justify a hunch, no pressure to explain a feeling. You just listen. You honor it. You move.

Maybe for the first time in a long time, you feel what it’s like to let your body lead. A subtle pull to stay. A sudden urge to go. That weird twinge in your chest that says: Not this place. Not tonight. That’s not overthinking. That’s intelligence. That’s your intuition doing what it was built to do: protect and guide.

I remember pulling into a Cracker Barrel after a long drive. Everything looked normal, but my body said no. So, I backed out. No drama. No second-guessing. Just quiet, embodied clarity. That wasn’t paranoia. That was power.

RV life teaches you how to feel your way forward. You stop outsourcing your safety and start cultivating it from the inside out.

When you’re the one calling the shots, there’s no performance, no people-pleasing, no pushing past your own limits to avoid discomfort or keep the peace. Just deep, moment-by-moment care. Eat when you’re hungry. Rest when you’re tired. Stretch when your body says pause. Leave when something feels off. This isn’t flakiness. It’s fierce self-respect.

And the more you follow those cues, the more at home you feel—in your body and your life.

Safety isn’t just locks on the door. It’s being so connected to your inner knowing that you trust yourself to make the call—even when no one else understands it. Even when the proof never comes. Security isn’t something you find in a parking lot. It’s something you build inside yourself, choice by choice.

Reflection Questions

Remember these aren’t about finding the “right” answer. They’re about tuning in, listening closely, and choosing yourself in real time.

• When have I had a gut feeling that I ignored—and what happened as a result?
• What does my intuition sound like? What does it feel like in my body?
• What would change if I trusted the first nudge, instead of waiting for evidence?
• Where in my life am I craving more safety—and how can I create that for myself internally, not just externally?
• What’s one small decision today I can make from my gut, not just my head?

RV life doesn’t just teach you where to go. It teaches you how to listen. And the woman who can do that—really listen—she can go anywhere.

You Learn to Ask for Help (and Receive It)

Releasing shame around support and remembering you’re not alone.

Here’s the twist most people don’t expect: Solo doesn’t mean unsupported. In fact, life on the road teaches you something powerful: How to ask for help without shame—and how to receive it with genuine, immense gratitude.

You learn to replace the old survival script of I’ve got it all handled with something softer and truer: I can do a lot—and I don’t have to do it all alone. You discover that people are kind, solutions show up, and the universe is surprisingly generous.

These became my core beliefs on the road: 

• The world is a playground—we’re meant to explore and connect.
• There are people everywhere willing to help, if I’m open to receiving it.
• The answers I need usually live in the present moment, not in overthinking.

RV life taught me to replace fear-based what-ifs with grounded even-ifs:

• Even if something goes wrong, I trust I’ll figure it out.
• Even if I feel afraid, I won’t abandon myself.
• Even if I need help, I will find it—and I’ll receive it with grace, not guilt.

People have offered their assistance to show me how to change my oil. I’ve posted in a travel group about an issue I was troubleshooting and had a fix in minutes. Things that start off feeling like huge deals—expensive or intimidating—often turn out to be quick fixes with the right support.

I’ve been offered driveways to park in, hidden gems to explore, tools to borrow, air for my tires, and wisdom I didn’t even know I needed. Strangers became helpers. Helpers became friends. And in the middle of all of it, I started realizing that receiving help is actually part of the magic.

The breakdowns often are the breakthroughs. The questions are what lead you to the answers. And the willingness to be seen in your humanness is where the gold lives.

Reflection Questions

These prompts are here to help you practice receiving—without guilt, without apology, and without shrinking to make others comfortable.

• What stories have I been told (or told myself) about what it means to ask for help?
• In what ways have I tied my self-worth to doing everything on my own?
• Where in my life do I long for more support—but haven’t yet given myself permission to ask?
• What would change if I treated support not as a last resort—but as a normal, nourishing part of life?

You don’t need to do it all alone to be strong. Solo travel reminds you: courage isn’t about never needing a hand. It’s about knowing that when you do ... open hearts, open doors, and wide-open skies are waiting to meet you. That’s the quiet magic of going solo, together.

You Build a Tribe in a Whole New Way

Authentic connection and soul-aligned friendships.

Solo doesn’t mean lonely. In fact, some of the most soulful, aligned connections I’ve ever made happened while traveling alone—at campgrounds, RV events, or even in online van-life groups. These aren’t the kind of connections you make out of convenience or routine. These are the kind that find you when you're fully in your truth. When you’re not performing, not pleasing—just being.

And the people you meet out here? They’re a different kind of human.

RV life attracts folks who value freedom, joy, adventure, and truly living. They don’t just tolerate uniqueness—they celebrate it. They won't put you in a box, and they won't try to fit into one either. There’s a twinkle-in-the-eye energy they carry—equal parts wonder, wisdom, and wild storytelling. They’ll chat around a campfire one night, then totally understand when you need to cocoon in your rig the next day. No judgment. Just realness.

Solo doesn’t mean isolated. It means intentional. It means curating connections of depth and authenticity over default, routine, and pattern.

Reflection Questions

So, before you assume you have to choose between freedom and connection—ask yourself:

• What if the road held not just adventure, but my next soul-aligned friendship?
• What if traveling solo was actually the fastest way to find my people?
• What if I didn’t have to sacrifice connection for freedom—but instead found them beautifully intertwined?

This kind of connection doesn’t ask you to shrink, to filter, or to fit in. It meets you where you actually are—real, raw, and fully alive. And in that kind of space, your true tribe finds you. The more you follow your own path, the more likely you are to find others walking theirs—right beside you.

You Rewrite the Rules

A life designed by you.

Solo RV life doesn’t just change where you go—it changes how you live. Somewhere between the open road and the quiet nights under the stars, you begin to question everything you once called “normal.”

You realize the old rules—the ones about staying small, staying safe, staying in line—were never really yours. You stop living on autopilot. You start listening to the deeper voice inside—the one that says:

This life is mine to shape.
My joy matters.
I get to write the script.

You no longer hustle for alignment—you live from it. That changes everything. You begin to trust that rest is sacred, detours are divine, and adventure is your birthright.

You start living not for anyone else’s checklist, but for your own soul’s delight. That’s when synchronicity meets you, freedom expands you, and life becomes art—curated, created, and completely your own.

Questions to Take With You:

• What old paradigms am I ready to leave behind for good?
• What kind of life would feel like mine, not just one I inherited?
• If I gave myself full permission to choose differently … what would I create next?

This journey isn’t just about movement—it’s about momentum. Every mile becomes a vote for the life you’re meant to live. One of courage, joy, and of your own making.

Final Thoughts: This Isn’t Just Travel—It’s Transformation

The open road isn’t just a route—it’s a mirror. It reflects your strength, your dreams, and your becoming. Every mile is a quiet revolution. A bold choice to trust yourself.

If you feel the pull, honor it. Solo RV life won’t just show you the country—it’ll show you you.

You’ll stretch. You’ll shed. You’ll rise. You’ll remember that you’re allowed to take up space. You’ll see—again and again—that you can do hard things. You’ll realize that the life you want isn’t waiting on someone else—it’s waiting on you.

So hook up the rig. Trust the nudge. And take the leap.

Wishing you courage, clarity, and wild joy on every mile. From one solo soul (and her fluffy copilot) to another—keep going. You’ve got this.

-Morgan & Teddy
Follow along with me on Instagram (@themorganfield) or on Facebook.