The year China's famous road-going “auntie” 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 roof tent and her pension.

“I felt like I could finally catch my breath,” she says, recalling the moment she walked away from her old life. “I felt like I could survive and find a way to the life I wanted.”

Over the next four years and 180,000 miles, the video diaries she shared of her adventures, detailing decades of pain, earned her millions of fans online. They called her “the aunt on the road” because she unwittingly turned into a champion for women who felt trapped in their own lives.

Her story has now become a hit film released in September – per Rolling Stone – and she made it to the BBC's list of 100 Inspiring and Influential Women for 2024.

It's been a year full of big moments, but if she had to describe what 2024 means to her in one word, she says that word would be “freedom.”

Once Su Min started driving, she felt freer, she told the BBC by phone from Shenyang – before heading south to spend the winter in her new SUV with a caravan.

But she didn't experience “another kind of freedom” until 2024, when she finally filed for divorce.

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

But she is determined that she does not want to look back: “I'm saying goodbye to him.”

In her new life on the road, Soo Min's duty is to herself.

Her videos mostly feature just her. Even though she drives alone, she never seems alone. She chats with her followers as she films her trip and shares what she was cooking, how she spent the previous day, and where she is going next.

Her audiences travel with her to places they never knew they would long for—the snow-capped mountains of Xinjiang, the ancient river towns of Yunnan, sparkling blue lakes, vast grasslands, and endless deserts.

They applaud her courage and envy the freedom she embraced. Rarely have they heard such a first-hand account of the reality of life as a “Chinese aunt.”

“You are so brave! You chose to be free,” one follower wrote, while another urged her to “live the rest of your life well for yourself!” One woman asked for advice because she too “dreams of driving alone,” and one distraught 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 takeaways are more tangible but inspiring: “After watching your videos, I learned this: As women, we should own our own home, build friendships extensively, work hard to be financially independent, and invest in unemployment insurance!”

Through it all, Soo Min comes to terms with her past. A stray cat she encounters on the road reminds her of herself, both of them “enduring wind and rain for years but still managing to love this world that blows the dust off our faces.” Visiting the market, where she smells hot peppers, evokes the “smell of freedom” because her husband had forbidden spicy food throughout their marriage because he didn’t like it.

For years So Min was an obedient daughter, wife, and mother – even when her husband beat her repeatedly.

“I was a traditional woman and wanted to stay in my marriage for life,” she says. “But I eventually realized that I wasn't getting anything for all my energy and effort – just beatings, violence, emotional abuse and gaslighting.”

Her husband, Du Chucheng, admitted to beating her. “It's my fault that I beat you,” he said in a recent video she shared on Douyin, the Chinese TikTok platform.

A high school graduate, he worked in a government job 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 “responded” and that it was “normal”: “In a family, how can there not be some explosions and collisions?”

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

She was born and raised in Tibet until 1982, when her 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.

Her marriage was arranged by a matchmaker, which was common at the time. She spent most of her life cooking and taking care of her father and three younger brothers. “I wanted to change my life,” she says.

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

Soo Min has not found love. But she has a daughter, which is one of the reasons she convinced herself that she needed to endure the abuse.

“We are always very afraid of being ridiculed and blamed if we divorce, so we all choose to endure, but in reality, this kind of patience is not right,” she says. “I later learned that, in fact, it can have a huge impact on children. The child doesn't really want you to put up with it, 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 she soon became a grandmother. Her daughter had twins – and again duty called. She felt she needed help caring for them, despite being diagnosed with depression.

“I felt like if I didn't leave, I would get sicker,” she says. She promised her daughter that she would take care of the boys until they went to kindergarten, and then she would leave.

The spark of inspiration for her escape came in 2019 while scrolling social media. I found a video of a guy traveling while staying in his van. That was it, she thought to herself. This was her way out.

Even the pandemic did not stop her. In September 2020, she left her husband's home in Zhengzhou, barely looking back as she made her way through 20 Chinese provinces and more than 400 cities.

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

Many of them are mothers sharing their own struggles. They tell her they, too, feel trapped in stifling marriages — and some say her stories have inspired them to get out of abusive relationships.

“You are a hero to thousands of women, and many now see the possibility of a better life because of you,” reads a top comment on one of her most-viewed videos.

Another comment read: “When I'm 60, I hope to be as free as you.”

A third woman asks: “Auntie 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?” Soo Min thought about the call. “I want to tell you that no matter how old you are, as long as you work hard, you will definitely find your answer. Just like me, even though I am 60 years old now, I have found what I was looking for.”

She admits that it was not easy and she had to live frugally on her pension. She thought vlogging might help raise some money, and she had no idea it would go viral.

She talks about what she has learned over the years and her latest challenge, which is finalizing her divorce.

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

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, unrestrained life. Congratulations, aunty – here's to a colorful and fulfilling future!”

She says it is difficult to get a divorce because “many of our laws in China are meant to protect the family. Often women do not dare to divorce because of family disharmony.”

At first, she thought that Du Chucheng's behavior might improve with time and distance, but she said that he still threw “pots and pans” at her when she returned.

He has only contacted her twice in the past few years – once because her motorway access card was linked to his credit card and he wanted her to return 81 yuan (£0.90). She says she has not used that card since.

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

She's nervous about overcoming language barriers, but is confident her story will resonate around the world — as it did in China.

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

Additional reporting by Fan Wang in Singapore