Rolling Stone
By EJ Dickson
September 24, 2021
Excerpt:
Several years ago, Annie decided to buy a van. With her partner at the time, she made a pact: they were going to save $10,000 each and then hit the road for a year, living out of their van and hitting 49 states.
It was fairly early in the evolution of the #vanlife influencer community on social media. At the time, there were few depictions of the lifestyle on Instagram: cozy, sun-drenched selfies in perfectly appointed backseats with nary a crumpled Doritos bag or empty soda bottle in sight; bright red buttes and cliffs framed by flawlessly filtered vistas. But Annie was drawn to the idea of total freedom, of seeing places she’d never been before, of not being tethered to a schedule or agenda. “It’s a lot less destination and trail-focused, but focused on the concept of living outside, living freely, not being tied to the 9 to 5, being tied to my body and mind,” she says.
Annie, whose name has been changed, says that she and her partner had been dating for about six months before they set off on the road together. The relationship was not going well; she says her partner exhibited verbally abusive, controlling behavior, constantly interrogating her about her past romantic relationships and preventing her from going out with certain people. Then it started to turn physical, she says: he would punch walls, back her into corners, or scream while she cowered beneath him. But she felt hopeful that living their shared dream together would bring about a shift. “We’d been working towards a big project for what felt like a really long time. I felt like I’d feel remorseful if I didn’t just try to get on the road and maybe things would change,” she says.
As Annie describes it, they didn’t. As they traveled throughout the United States, the abuse continued apace, Annie says. “There was more isolation. We went all over the country and we were in the middle of nowhere most of the time,” she says. “All my belongings were with me and stress was really high.” Because they were together in a small space 24/7, she had no ability to communicate with her family and friends what was going on. “I thought ‘Can I endure this for another 24 hours? Is this the day I can sneak away and leave and get a flight even though I have no car and any way to get anywhere?,’” she says.
Eventually, Annie says, she and her former partner got in a booze-and-jealousy-fueled argument, which culminated in him grabbing her by the throat. She says he later claimed he was trying to keep her quiet, so other campers wouldn’t hear her shouting. “I was scared and I was ashamed,” she says. “It was the most violent things had gotten at that point.”
Annie does not believe that her road trip with her then-partner caused or exacerbated the abuse. “It was already progressing over time anyways,” she says. “I think it was a form of isolation that he was able to use as a tactic.” Yet her experience reflects the darker side of the hyper-curated, Instagram-ready #vanlife couple aesthetic, in which the circumstances of the lifestyle — disconnection from one’s support system, social isolation, nomadism — create the perfect conditions for already-existing abuse to worsen. “This is a life of wanderlust,” says Travis Wild, a van life blogger who wrote a post on the subject of domestic abuse in the community in 2020. “But at the same time these are issues our community is facing and it won’t get any better by not talking about it.”
Domestic abuse within the van life community has gotten some attention with the disappearance and death of Gabby Petito, who with her boyfriend Brian Laundrie vlogged about their van life adventures on their YouTube channel, Nomadic Statik. Since her disappearance, details have emerged regarding Petito’s relationship with Laundrie, whom friends described as jealous and controlling. (Laundrie has disappeared and was thus unavailable to be reached for comment.)
Audio from a 911 call following a dispute the couple had in Moab, Utah supports the idea that the relationship was at the very least highly toxic, with one witness reporting that he had seen Laundrie slap Petito and another stating that the pair argued “aggressively.” Bodycam footage taken by police showed officers questioning Laundrie about scratches on his face, which he said were from Petito; Petito, for her part, seemed agitated in the footage, assuming blame for the entire incident.
On September 1st, Laundrie returned to Florida by himself, and on September 11, Petito’s family reported her missing. Petito’s remains were found in Wyoming on Sunday, and police are currently searching for Laundrie in Venice, Florida, where Laundrie last told his parents he was headed.
“Being in close contact with many people could lead to contentious relationships,” says Maureen Curtis, vice president of criminal justice programs at Safe Horizon, a national domestic violence hotline. “We saw it with Covid and the increase with physical violence, or family violence where we saw more reports of escalated violence between family members. People were confined to tight spaces. So yes, it’s not surprising if I’m traveling around in an RV, that could lead to an escalation of violence if there is already some type of DV.”