My husband was homeless when he was 17, turning 18. He left a bad household, with no place but his barely running car to reside in. He felt fortunate that he had that as something to reside in, because he saw how much harder it was for those that didn’t have a car.
He had to look for places to clean up, to study – he was still in school. He had to hope he wasn’t ticketed, run off or otherwise caught by law enforcement. If he was, he would have been told to continue moving, not to stop and sleep where he was.
He still had a job, but not for long. What money he did have, had to cover his food, gas and basic expenses.
He felt lonely, lost and unwanted. Since his father basically didn’t care and his stepmother was abusive, he wasn’t far off the mark.
Eventually he saved and was able to be someone’s roommate, but his troubles didn’t stop there. He’s a determined person – he enrolled in and stayed in school. He turned his life around and to me, is one of the strongest people I know.