I Sold My Life for $1 and Moved to an Island

This is the first post in a new series I’m calling Reader Stories—a space to share real-life accounts of what it means to break away from convention and create a life on your own terms.

We begin with Becki.

A few years ago, she sold nearly everything she owned—for one dollar each—and set off for a tiny Caribbean island she’d dreamed about for decades. No five-year plan. No safety net. Just a suitcase, a spark, and the willingness to leap.

What she found was a life rooted in rhythm, simplicity, and a deep connection to the natural world. Her story mirrors what I’ve experienced in my own life: that freedom doesn’t come from following the rules. It comes from walking away from them. From questioning what we’ve been taught to want. From choosing presence over performance, and meaning over momentum.

Reader Stories is a community for the raw, beautiful, deeply human process of becoming. It’s about those moments when everything shifts—and we finally say yes to what’s been calling us all along.

I’m honored to share Becki’s story as the first in this series. May it remind you that reinvention is always possible—and that sometimes, the first step is simply letting go.

I Sold My Life for $1 and Moved to an Island—by Becky Ruh

Six years ago, almost to the day, just after my son graduated from high school and moved to the PNW, I had the most glorious yard sale ever.

I sold literally everything I owned—minus a couple suitcases full of sundresses, bikinis, and flip-flops—for $1.

Everything. Furniture: $1. Art: $1. Books, bikes, and all my fancy clothes (I had some really amazing shoes and bags, but I knew I’d never need—or want—those again): $1.

Everything was a dollar.

I’ll never forget the woman’s face when she asked me how much for the gorgeous antique chest.

“A dollar,” I said, “everything’s a dollar.”

By the end of the day, not a thing was left. Poof—gone—an entire lifetime of playing a part I just couldn’t any longer.

A week later, I boarded a plane to move my entire life—what was left of it—to a tiny Caribbean island I’d wanted to live on for 20-some years.

And: I was single for the very first time in my life.

Seven years before my move to the Virgin Islands, just after my father passed, I made my first big leap—from the corporate grind (which had sucked the ever-living soul right out of me) to dive headfirst into the entrepreneurial world of the Boss Babe.

Turns out being a Boss Babe was a lot like the corporate grind—just without the steady paycheck and 401K😂. Still devoid of the slower pace, deeper connection to life, and meaningful contribution I was craving…the hustle culture was real and I was caught up in yet another iteration of the empty American dream.

Though it was definitely closer to what I wanted than my more corporate life before, starting my own business as a holistic health coach and stepping into the world of essential oils didn’t shake that feeling that something was still missing.

And, boy, oh boy…was there ever.

ME.

Turns out, I was the “thing” missing from the whole equation. I had been moving and shaking so fast my whole life that I had no idea who I truly was—or what I was really here for. Or how absolutely GORGEOUS this world is.

Moving to St. John was by far the biggest leap I’d ever taken. And at 42, I was wholly unprepared for what I would discover about myself there.

The culture and pace of life fit me better than I could have imagined. And being immersed (literally) in some of the most exquisite waters on this planet, surrounded by nature’s slower rhythm, finally allowed me to begin feeling into my own.

I hiked into off-the-beaten path beaches most mornings, was barefoot all the time and was in the water as much as I was on land—no makeup, no mani/pedis, no bras, no fancy spa days. For an American girl, I was def in the wild. And I loved every bit of it. I’d never felt more alive.

That slower pace gave me the freedom to shake off the shackles I’d been carrying my whole life. I was like, “What in the hell have we been so busy for? And why do we think we need so much stuff?!”

It didn’t take long to start stripping away years of cultural conditioning. And holy moly, before long there was a wild woman on the loose🤪.

I was beholden to no one, nothing. And my business was essentially running itself. Talk about a recipe for being shown all of my shadow—brought into the light to be seen and for its (continuing) transmutation.

In the past six years, I’ve lived in 11 different houses from St. John to St. Croix to Wyoming—and now, I’m nestled in the sweetest little spot in middle of the woods in the Appalachian mountains.

I’m not the same person I was when I left NC six years (lifetimes?) ago.

I am softer. Slower. Quieter. I know what a regulated nervous system feels like. I know I am not the roles I’ve had, or will have in the future. I don’t attach to people, places, or things the way I used to—connected, yes. Attached? No.

I’ve learned more in these years than I’d dare say in my entire life.

Well, actually... I’ve unlearned.

I’ve unlearned what it means to be “successful.”

I’ve unlearned who I thought “I” was. And now, I sense deep in my bones—I AM.

I’ve unlearned that we need so many things. Sure, we need some things, but the bulk of what we run around buying and thinking we need? We do not.

What we need is nature.

Quiet.

Space.

Freedom.

Connection to our sweet Mother Earth.

At least, that’s what I need.

And I’ve unlearned that to rest is lazy. We are nature. And nature rests. We all have cycles and seasons and once we ungrip, we learn we can flow just as the river does.

I’ve unlearned the bulk of what our culture has sold us and have begun living my life by connecting to my own intuition, accessed through intentional connection to Spirit on the regular.

In doing so, I’m learning to hear what my Soul’s truest calling is.

This life—for those of us fortunate enough to be born into this cushy-ass culture (that we can choose to opt out of)—is one big, beautiful experiment.

So, my current, very consciously curated experiment is to see what happens when I actually allow my soul to guide me, now that my ego has taken its rightful position in the backseat. It’s still there (mouthy af), and clearly has an opinion, but Spirit is now leading the way (on the good days, at least).

That, my new friends, is why I’m holed up in the mountains of NC now; it was another Soul-nudge and I’m finally settling in someplace I feel grounded enough to write my first book. Back to my roots, just in a wholly different way.

I’ve always been a writer at heart, I just wasn’t brave enough to say it aloud until recently—until I was able to get away from the noise and distraction, and other people’s opinions, long enough to actually hear my own voice.

“This way,” she whispers.

That is what I listen for now.

The birds, the wind, the rain, the river, the thunder and the quiet. It’s in these I can hear sweet whisper of my Soul.

Scott, I’m so thankful for you sharing your resonant voice, your wisdom, and your life here—and for creating this space. It’s brilliant, SO needed and inspiring my ever-evolving vision as I consider the path ahead. I don’t know exactly what it looks like yet, but isn’t that the fun of it?! We shall seeee…deep bow to you and blessings to all!

❤️❤️❤️

If Becki’s story stirred something in you—or if you have a question for her—drop it in the comments below. She’d love to connect, and so would this community. We’re building something meaningful here, together—one honest story at a time.

And if you’ve walked your own unconventional path, I invite you to share it. ✍️ Submit your story below to be considered for a future edition of Reader Stories. Your words might be exactly what someone else needs to read.

If you’re new to my work, you can explore my books—written from trails, forests, and far-off places—right here. 📚