Homeless Boulder Stories & Updates from the Streets
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Blog · Lived experience

Stories from someone who is homeless in Boulder right now.

This isn’t a brochure. It’s a living record from William – currently unhoused, staying in the Boulder shelter system – about what actually helps, what doesn’t, and who is really showing up.

You’ll find praise where it’s earned, criticism where it’s honest, and a lot of reality in between. If you work in this system, please read like a human, not like a policy manual.

Boulder Food Not Bombs: the best group I’ve seen out here

In over three years of being homeless in Colorado, one group stands out above everyone else I’ve met: Boulder Food Not Bombs. They’re not a big nonprofit. They’re not chasing grants. They’re just people feeding people, all heart.

When you’ve been outside a long time, you get used to being processed: intake forms, rules on top of rules, “services” that feel more like surveillance. Boulder Food Not Bombs is the opposite of that.

They cook real food. They show up because they care, not because someone is paying them. There’s no pressure to “deserve” the meal. You’re hungry, they feed you. Simple.

A few things that make them different in my experience:

  • No judgment: You don’t have to perform being “the perfect client.” You’re just a person who eats.
  • No profit: They’re not a nonprofit machine. They figure this out with heart, volunteers, and hustle.
  • Real connection: They look you in the eye and talk like you’re a neighbor, not a problem.

I’ve dealt with a lot of organizations while being homeless. Some are helpful, some are harmful, some are just bureaucratic wallpaper. Food Not Bombs is different: they show what it looks like when people take care of each other without waiting for permission.

Note: Days, times, and locations can change. Ask around at the shelter or from other unhoused folks about when they’re serving now, and always confirm locally.

Why I built HomelessBoulder.com while I’m still homeless

I’m writing this as someone who is currently sleeping in Boulder’s shelter system, not as a past-tense success story. That matters, because most guides are written after people get out.

When you’re new to being homeless in Boulder, it feels like everyone else got handed a manual that you somehow missed. Shelter rules, Coordinated Entry, “lists,” benefits, court, buses – all of it is confusing on purpose or by neglect.

This site exists because:

  • People are lost on day one: You shouldn’t have to guess how to get food, shelter, or a bus pass.
  • The system speaks jargon: I’m trying to translate that into plain language from the perspective of someone stuck inside it.
  • Too many voices are missing: We hear from agencies and officials all the time. We rarely hear from people on the mat next to you.

I also built this because I want Boulder residents, service providers, and city leadership to see something they can’t ignore: a clear map of what it’s really like to navigate all this while exhausted, cold, and broke.

AI helped me do the technical part – the code, the structure, the polishing – but the content is powered by lived experience. If you’re reading this and you’re unhoused: this site is for you first.

Three years homeless in Colorado: the good, the bad, and the honest

I’ve been homeless in Colorado for over three years. Boulder has moments of real kindness and moments that make it clear the system would rather you disappear.

The bad is easy to see: tickets for trying to sleep, feeling watched instead of helped, waiting years on housing lists while your body and mind wear down. It’s the feeling that you’re always one mistake, one missed bus, or one bad interaction away from losing what little ground you have.

The good is quieter, but it’s there:

  • Someone at a meal line who remembers your name.
  • A volunteer who brings clothes that actually fit and look decent.
  • A case manager or staff member who treats you like a person, not a problem to manage.
  • People on the street sharing what they know so others don’t get blindsided.

This site tries to amplify the good and shine a light on the gaps. I’m not pretending to be neutral: I’m writing from inside the mess, trying to build a map for anyone else who ends up here after me.

If you’re a neighbor, volunteer, or city official reading this, you have more power than you think. Small changes – clearer information, more respect, fewer needless barriers – can make daily life a lot less brutal.