Reflections on How Homelessness Can Alter Your Perception of Truth

A friend spent six months on the streets of Houston, and I still wonder about how much the experience changed the trajectory of his life

Image by Walter Rhein

Grady looked haggard as he stepped off the plane. His shirt clung to his body in a way that put his muscles in stark relief — but not in a good way. He resembled a street animal that had grown accustomed to fighting for its daily survival. I got the sense that he’d resigned himself to the inevitability of death, but he still intended to battle to the very last.

Young men can hit an intersection point where they discover that all the vitality of youth isn’t enough to fend off frustration and misery. Seeing Grady startled me. At first I felt concern and pity for him. Then I looked down and realized I might as well be looking at a mirror.

At age 26, I was as strong as I’d ever been. I spent most days in the same set of clothes, often going to bed in them to fend off the cold. I’d settled into a habit that was an extension of how I’d grown up. It would be 10 more years before I left that life behind.

I’d been trapped in a prison of my own design.