A member of my Senior Nomads Facebook group recently posted a question that was supposed to determine whether you’re a real nomad: Do you own a key chain?
I had to laugh.
But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if the question should really be:
Do you own a key chain with a house key on it?
Because not all nomads look alike these days.
The missing house key
Traditionally, a nomad was someone who had no permanent home and moved from place to place. Visions of Mongolia come to mind.
Today, things are a little more complicated.
Some nomads live in vans.
Some live in RVs.
Some live in cars.
Some move from housesit to housesit. 🙋♀️
Others travel the world while working remotely from laptops balanced on café tables.
Generally nomads don’t travel for a few weeks every year and then return to the same house. Nomads don’t spend the winter in Mexico and then the summer in their main residence “back home”. Nomads simply live a mobile life.
The common thread is that nomads don’t have a permanent home waiting for them at the end of the journey.
Or at least, that’s how many people would define it.
The digital nomads
Then there are the digital nomads.
Lucky them.
These are people who have managed to find jobs that can be done from anywhere with a decent internet connection. In another era, they would have been “working from home.”
Instead, they work from apartments in Thailand, cafés in Portugal, beach towns in Mexico, or mountain villages in South America.
They earn a living while continuously moving from one place to another.
As someone who spent decades showing up at an office, I have to admit I’m a little envious.
The nomads who aren’t quite nomads
Of course, there are also plenty of people who call themselves nomads but still maintain a house, apartment, or condo.
They travel and maybe spend months on the road every year. Others may be away more often than they’re home.
Are they nomads?
Honestly, I don’t know.
Anyone can self-describe themselves however they choose.
The term “nomad” doesn’t come with an official licensing body or a membership card.
Still, there does seem to be a difference between someone who travels extensively and someone who has given up having a permanent residence altogether.
One group is travelling and going back to their home when they’re done.
The other group has made travel their lifestyle.
Nomads, pretenders, and the myth of the missing front door
The funny thing is that every community develops its own unofficial tests.
It’s like calling yourself a cowgirl. Do you own a horse? Or do you own a pair of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat?
Both might call themselves cowgirls.
In the travel world, there are people who spend six months backpacking across continents and people who take two cruises a year.
Both might call themselves travellers.
And in the nomad world, there are people who haven’t slept in the same place for more than a few weeks in years, while others still have a front door, a mailbox, and a property tax bill waiting for them back home.
Who gets to decide which ones are “real”?
Probably nobody.
My own situation
Technically, I live in my car.
Before anyone imagines me parked under a bridge somewhere, let me explain.
My car is simply the closest thing I have to a permanent address.
It contains many of my belongings and accompanies me from one housesit to the next.
The houses change.
The cities change.
The provinces sometimes change.
The car comes with me. Or maybe it stays parked.
And no, there isn’t a house key on my key chain.
There are car keys, storage keys, and a few mystery keys I’ve forgotten the purpose of. But there is no key that unlocks a home of my own.
Click here to read why I decided to become a car nomad and spend time back in B.C. Hint: the reason has 4 legs, a head and a tail, and whinnies.
Key chain
When I became a nomad, I had one key chain that travelled with me. It’s a Vantamo personal alarm.
Check out my review on YouTube.
I always have this in my pocket. Oddly enough, I’ve gone through airport security without it triggering an alarm. Oops. Forgot to take it out of my pocket and put it in the bin for the x-ray machine.
The key ring is easy for me to put keys on and off, so perfect for housesitting. I can put the homeowner’s key on the Vantamo and stick it back in my front pocket.
Let’s get back to when I decided to spend part of the year housesitting in B.C. This meant I had to buy a car again. Besides the Vantamo, I didn’t have a key chain. Total regret sinks in. Since becoming a nomad and buying the car, I’d travelled to multiple countries in Europe and the Caribbean. Missed opportunity to buy key chains! But seriously, why would I need a key chain? No house. No car. And then I have a car again.
I didn’t make that mistake again. On my Great South American Adventure, I picked up key chains in Peru, the Galapagos Islands, and Mexico. Some were gifts. But two are for the car keys.
So what’s the real nomad test?
Maybe the key chain question is actually onto something.
Not because owning a key chain determines whether you’re a nomad.
And not even because owning a house key determines it.
Maybe it’s because the question gets us thinking about what “home” really means.
For some people, home is a house they’ve lived in for thirty years.
For others, it’s an RV parked beside a lake.
For some digital nomads, it’s wherever they happen to open their laptop.
For me, home is usually wherever I’ve unpacked my suitcase, learned which kitchen drawer contains the can opener, and learned the dog’s preferred walking route..
So perhaps the real nomad test isn’t whether you own a key chain.
It’s whether you’re always thinking about going home. Or whether you’ve discovered that home can move right along with you.
And if that’s the case, maybe the missing house key isn’t missing at all.
Maybe you just don’t need it anymore.
Published by Cheryl @ The Lifestyle Digs on September 10, 2026.
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