I discovered tiny houses when I was 16, and having a place of my own to call home was the most important piece of the future I imagined for myself. Everything else I could handle, as long as I had a beautiful, private space that was mine. I didn’t want a dorm, I didn’t want a crappy apartment, and I didn’t want messy roommates. I saw pictures of tiny houses and thought to myself, I could do that! I could build one of those and live in it!
It was perfect, a home that I could design and build, and own within a few years. I could take it anywhere I decided to go.
I would have my safe home base, no matter what school I decided to go to or place I wanted to live. Inspired by my grandparents’ log home on the water, built by my grandfather, I started planning. I could have a window seat, real wood furniture, a queen size bed, skylights, a custom kitchen and closet. I would get to pick every single material that went into the house, and all for less than the cost of four years in dorms. It was my lovely little dream.
At 17 I had a floor plan and a budget, at 18 I went to a tiny house workshop with my dad, and at 19 I bought the trailer that would become the foundation of my tiny dream house. Starting the build was a big change; it had been more than a year since I had any obligations besides my job at a restaurant.
All my free time turned into should-be-building time, and it was hard to separate out guilt-free time to relax. There was a big learning curve, and the subfloor took a month to complete.
But I still had all summer, right? Multiple emails back and forth with the engineer who was supposed to approve the framing plans delayed any building until September. Framing the walls with my newly-purchased nail gun took less than a week, and it only took about an hour to raise them.
The project was finally 3D and coming together as the walls fit perfectly into place, standing tall above me.
Sheathing the walls was slow going, because I couldn’t do it by myself. I was limited by how often friends and family could help, and that was frustrating. My military dad, whose help I had planned on, had been posted to another province the previous year.
I worked on the rafters in my free time, but I also started a second job in October, and time was running out before winter. I eventually made the decision to store the tiny house in a warehouse for the winter, because there just wasn’t enough time left for me to complete the exterior. I spent five months dedicatedly researching the next steps.
When spring came around, I eagerly returned to the physical work of the tiny house, sanding beams and prepping rafters. I wanted to be ready with all building materials the minute the tiny house was towed out of storage. With help from friends, the loft and roof framing went up, and the building momentum snowballed.
I finished the wall sheathing, then the roof sheathing, ice and water shield, skylights, and roofing! I did all this while working two jobs, and skipped my annual family vacation to keep making progress.
At the end of August, I was able to quit one of those jobs and take a vacation to see my sister and some friends. My new schedule when I returned was six nights a week, but that gave me daytimes to build. I still struggled to find help, but eventually the house was wrapped in Typar and the windows were finally installed!
Unfortunately, most steps rely on completion of the previous ones, and I’m only one person, so I wasn’t able to start cutting window trim or staining siding until November.
Thankfully, the tiny house roof was weatherproof, and the walls and windows were sealed against water. I spent hours upon hours throughout the winter sanding, staining, cutting, priming, and painting in the garage, with music or Netflix on in the background to keep me company.
I still worked on the exterior of the house, even when snow was falling. I installed the rain screen, cut soffits to size, attached porch floor boards, and my sister painted a galaxy on my porch ceiling. At the end of March, I finally had all the trim ready to go up. It took a month and a half.
The trim and siding took longer than any other part of building the exterior, which makes sense, but still surprised me. Add in time spent on caulking and paint touch-ups, and that brought me to the end of July.
A team of just two builders could have built my tiny house in a fraction of the time it took me, but building wasn’t my day job. I was alone, and every single step was brand new. While I had no problem researching and learning, it was time-consuming.
I didn’t have the practice and repetition drilled into me that an experienced builder has, nor did I have an extra person all the time or special tools to help with bigger pieces. Plus, I was still trying to balance my free time between building, relaxing, and socializing while working six nights a week.
I finally took a break by going on my annual family vacation, after working on the build almost every single day. When I returned, I decided to enjoy the rest of the summer. I should have been reading up on electrical and starting to buy materials for the interior, but I wasn’t even thinking about it.
I told myself it was okay to take some time to enjoy my summer, and that it was okay if the build took longer so long as I was enjoying my life along the way. But something had changed. The picture I had in my head of the future didn’t include the tiny house anymore.
My plan was never to travel with the tiny house. I didn’t want to have to tow it everywhere. I just wanted to be able to come home to it after traveling light, or take it with me if I moved provinces. But now, I want more freedom. Owning a home, even a tiny one on wheels, comes with responsibilities and bills. I want to be able to live anywhere, not just where the bylaws allow.
I want to be able to sell everything I own and go travel or live abroad. My passion for owning my own home, for the stability and privacy and personalization, has reformed into a more flexible point of view. There’s more than one way to feel at home in this world, and I want to explore it.
So I just want to say, to all the aspiring tiny out there, build your life the way you want it. And if your vision changes along the way, that’s okay.
We’re all just doing the best that we can, with the knowledge that we have. If, for you, a tiny house is a place to live for a couple of years and then move on, that’s okay. Maybe it saved you money. If you planned to live in your tiny house for a long time, and end up moving out after a year, that’s okay.
You probably learned a lot. If it’s a retirement plan, that’s great. If it’s a summer cottage, or a guest house, or a place for family to be close by, awesome. If it’s an office, or an art studio, or a rental, that’s great too. Even if you started a build, but didn’t finish it, that’s okay. You’re not the only one.
You don’t have to live in 100 sq.ft. for your entire life to be considered a true tiny houser. Take what you need from this movement, whether it’s an entire lifestyle change or just a reminder to live mindfully. I hope you create the life you’ve been looking for, and learn what home means to you.
Written By :: Natalie Arsenault for Tiny House Magazine Issue 65
