When we picture homelessness, the image that often comes to mind is someone living on a city street, pushing a shopping cart or sleeping in a tent. But homelessness doesn’t always look like that—and increasingly, it doesn’t. In suburban communities across the country, people are experiencing homelessness in cars, motels, or temporarily couch surfing with friends. They’re hidden in plain sight.
At Stepping Stone Emergency Housing, we see the faces of suburban homelessness every day. And we’ve learned that the roots of homelessness are more complex—and closer to all of us—than many realize.
One Job Loss Away
For many Americans, especially those living paycheck to paycheck, a single unexpected event—losing a job, a serious illness, an accident, or a major car repair—can unravel everything. Even those who have worked hard, built a life, and done “everything right” can find themselves unable to keep up when the margins are thin and the safety nets are few.
Consider someone in their 50s who loses their job due to downsizing. They may struggle to find comparable work. If they’re divorced or widowed, they may be on a single income. If they’re living with a chronic illness or supporting a child or elderly parent, their risk multiplies.
The fall into homelessness often happens slowly and quietly—and by the time someone seeks shelter, they’ve usually run out of options.
Burned Bridges and Broken Networks
One common thread we see among our residents is the absence of a support network. Sometimes people have become isolated over time—through divorce, family estrangement, moves, or the slow erosion of relationships. In other cases, a person may have made serious mistakes, like repeated substance use or legal troubles, that damaged relationships with loved ones.
Regardless of how it happens, when someone has no one to call in a crisis, their vulnerability increases dramatically. For many, the final step into homelessness comes when they’ve simply run out of people to turn to.
The Role of Trauma
It’s important to recognize how past trauma plays into these scenarios. Childhood abuse, domestic violence, the loss of a loved one, or long-standing neglect can leave deep scars. People who’ve experienced trauma often develop coping mechanisms—some healthy, some not—that shape how they interact with the world.
We’ve seen how easily trauma can be triggered, even in everyday situations. For example, when an employee is called into a performance meeting with a boss, it might feel to them like abandonment, shame, or danger. Their nervous system reacts with fight, flight, or freeze. They might shut down, lash out, or walk away—jeopardizing their job and income in the process.
These responses aren’t signs of poor character—they’re signs of unresolved pain. And unless we understand this dynamic, we risk mislabeling people who are actually trying their best to survive.
It’s Not Either/Or—It’s Both/And
Yes, some people who are homeless struggle with substance use. Some have criminal records. But many do not. And even for those who do, it’s important to ask why. Addiction can be a form of self-medication for trauma. Legal trouble can stem from mental illness or desperation. We can hold people accountable while also holding space for compassion.
We need to move beyond simplistic narratives. Homelessness is rarely the result of a single bad choice. It’s more often a culmination of many small, human events—losses, traumas, economic shifts, and social disconnections—that, together, become overwhelming.
A Shared Humanity
The truth is, many of us are closer to this reality than we care to admit. If you lost your job today, how many months could you go without income? Who would you call if you had nowhere to stay? What if you were too ashamed—or too mentally exhausted—to ask for help?
We believe that everyone deserves dignity, support, and the chance to start again. And we believe that understanding the complexity of homelessness is the first step toward real solutions.