The year China’s famous traveling ‘aunt’ found freedom

Sixty-year-old Chinese grandmother Su Min had no intention of becoming a feminist icon.

She was just trying to escape her abusive husband when she hit the road in 2020 in her white Volkswagen hatchback with a tent on the roof and her pension.

“I felt like I could finally catch my breath,” he says, remembering the moment he walked away from his old life. “I felt like I could survive and find the way of life I wanted.”

Over the next four years and 180,000 miles, the video diaries he shared of his adventures, as they detailed decades of pain, earned him millions of online cheerleaders. She was called the “Travel Aunt” when she inadvertently became a hero to women who felt trapped in their own lives.

Her story is now a hit film that was released in September, Like a Rolling Stone, and made the BBC’s list of 100 Inspiring and Influential Women of 2024.

It was a year of great moments, but if she had to describe what 2024 meant to her in one word, she says that word would be “freedom.”

As soon as Su Min started driving, he felt freer, he told the BBC by phone from Shenyang, just before heading south to spend the winter in his new SUV with a camper.

But it wasn’t until 2024, when she finally filed for divorce, that she experienced “another kind of freedom.”

It took a while to arrive: it’s a complicated process in China and her husband refused to divorce her until she agreed to pay him. They settled for 160,000 yuan ($21,900; £17,400), but she is still waiting for the divorce certificate to arrive.

But she is determined not to want to look back: “I say goodbye to him.”

In her new life on the road, Su Min’s duty is to herself.

Most of her videos feature just her. Although she drives alone, she never seems alone. He chats with his followers as he films his trip, sharing what he’s been cooking, how he spent the day before, and where he’s going next.

Her audience travels with her to places they never knew they would long for: the snow-capped mountains of Xinjiang, the ancient riverside cities of Yunnan, the sparkling blue lakes, the vast grasslands and endless deserts.

They applaud his bravery and envy the freedom he has embraced. Rarely had they heard such a raw, first-hand account of the reality of life as a “Chinese aunt.”

“You are so brave! You chose to break free,” one follower wrote, while another urged her to “live well the rest of your life!” One woman asked for advice because she too “dreams of driving alone” and one amazed follower said: “Mom, look at her! When I grow up, I will live a colorful life like hers if I don’t get married.” “

For some, the conclusions are more pragmatic but inspiring: “After watching your videos, I learned this: as women, we must own our own home, cultivate friendships everywhere, work hard to be financially independent and invest in unemployment. sure!”

Despite everything, Su Min processes his own past. A stray cat she finds on the road reminds her of herself: both have “resisted the wind and rain for years, but still manage to love this world that shakes us in the face.” A visit to the market, where it smells like chili, evokes “the smell of freedom,” because throughout her marriage spicy food was prohibited by her husband, who did not like it.

For years, Su Min had been an obedient daughter, wife, and mother, even when her husband repeatedly beat her.

“I was a traditional woman and I wanted to stay in my marriage for life,” she says. “But finally I saw that I got nothing in return for all my energy and effort: only beatings, violence, emotional abuse and harassment.”

Her husband, Du Zhoucheng, admitted to beating her. “It’s my mistake for beating you,” she said in a video she recently shared on Douyin, TikTok’s Chinese platform.

A high school graduate, he worked at the Ministry of Water Resources for 40 years before retiring, according to local media reports. He told a media outlet in 2022 that he hit his wife because she “answered him” and that it was “something common and ordinary”: “In a family, how can there not be blows and clashes?”

Su Min married Du Zhoucheng “really to avoid my father’s control and to avoid the whole family.”

He was born and raised in Tibet until 1982, when his family moved to Henan, a bustling province in the valley along the Yellow River. She had just finished high school and found work in a fertilizer factory, where most of her female colleagues, including those under 20, already had husbands.

Their marriage was arranged by a matchmaker, which was common at the time. She had spent much of her life cooking and caring for her father and three younger brothers. “I wanted to change my life,” he says.

The couple met only twice before the wedding. She wasn’t looking for love, but she hoped that love would grow once they got married.

Su Min didn’t find love. But she did have a daughter, and that’s one of the reasons she convinced herself she needed to endure the abuse.

“We are always very afraid of being ridiculed and blamed if we get divorced, so we all decide to hold on, but in reality, this kind of patience is not appropriate,” she says. “I later learned that it can actually have a considerable impact on children. The child really doesn’t want you to suffer, they want you to stand up bravely and give them a harmonious home.”

She thought about leaving her husband after her daughter got married, but soon became a grandmother. His daughter had twins and, once again, duty called. She felt she needed to help care for them, even though she had already been diagnosed with depression.

“I felt like if I didn’t leave, I would get sicker,” she says. He promised his daughter that he would take care of the two children until they went to kindergarten and then he would leave.

The spark that inspired her to escape came in 2019 while she was scrolling through social media. He found a video of someone traveling while living in their van. This was it, she thought to herself. This was his way out.

Not even the pandemic stopped her. In September 2020, he walked away from his marital home in Zhengzhou and barely looked back as he toured 20 Chinese provinces and more than 400 cities.

It’s a decision that has certainly resonated with women in China. To her millions of followers, Su Min offers comfort and hope. “We women are not just someone’s wife or mother… Let’s live for ourselves!” wrote one follower.

Many of them are mothers who share their own struggles. They tell him that they, too, feel trapped in suffocating marriages; some say her stories have inspired them to leave abusive relationships.

“You are a heroine for thousands of women and many now see the possibility of a better life thanks to you,” reads one of the main comments on one of her most viewed videos.

“When I turn 60, I hope I can be as free as you,” says another comment.

A third woman asks, “Aunt Su, can I travel with you? I will cover all expenses. I just want to take a trip with you. I feel very trapped and depressed in my current life.”

“Can you have the life of your dreams?” Su Min reflected on the call. “I want to tell you that no matter how old you are, as long as you work hard, you will definitely find the answer. Just like me, although I am now 60 years old, I found what I was looking for.”

She admits it wasn’t easy and she had to live frugally off her pension. He thought vlogging could help raise some money; I had no idea they would go viral.

He talks about what he’s learned over the years and his latest challenge: finalizing the divorce.

“I don’t have my divorce certificate yet because the law has a cooling-off period and we are now in that period.”

One of her followers wrote that the money she paid her husband was “worth every penny,” adding, “Now it’s your turn to see the world and live a vibrant, unrestricted life. Congratulations, auntie, on a full future!” of color and fullness!

She says it is difficult to get divorced because “many of our laws in China are aimed at protecting the family. Women often dare not divorce because of lack of family harmony.”

At first, she thought Du Zhoucheng’s behavior might improve with time and distance, but she said he still threw “pots and pans” at her upon her return.

He has only called her twice in recent years: once because his motorway access card was linked to his credit card and he wanted 81 yuan (£0.90) back. She says she hasn’t used that card since.

Undeterred by the delay in getting a divorce, Su Min continues to plan more trips and hopes to travel abroad one day.

He worries about overcoming language barriers, but is confident his story will resonate around the world, as it has in China.

“Although women in each country are different, I would like to say that no matter what environment you are in, you should be good to yourself. Learn to love yourself, because only when you love yourself can the world be full of sunshine “.

Additional reporting from Fan Wang in Singapore