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

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

"I felt like I could finally catch my breath," she says, recalling the moment she drove away from her old life. "I felt like I could survive and find a way of life that I wanted."

Over the next four years and 180,000 miles, the video diaries she shared of her adventures, while detailing decades of pain, earned her millions of cheerleaders online. They called her the "road-tripping auntie" as she inadvertently turned into a hero for 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 she made it to the BBC's list of 100 inspiring and influential women of 2024.

It was a year of big moments, but if she had to describe what 2024 meant to her in a single word, she says that word would be "freedom".

As soon as Su Min started driving, she felt freer, she told the BBC over the phone from Shenyang – just before she headed south for winter in her new SUV with a caravan.

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

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 the divorce certificate to come through.

But she is resolute that she doesn't want to look back: "I'm saying goodbye to him."

The road to freedom

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

Her videos mostly feature only her. Although she drives alone, she never seems lonely. She chats with her followers as she films her journey, sharing what she has been cooking, how she spent the previous day and where she's going next.

Her audience travels with her to places they never knew they would long for – Xinjiang's snow-capped mountains, Yunnan's ancient river towns, sparkling blue lakes, vast grasslands, endless deserts.

They applaud her bravery and envy the freedom she has embraced. They had rarely heard such a raw first-hand account about the reality of life as a "Chinese auntie".

"You're so brave! You chose to break free," wrote one follower, while another urged her to "live the rest of your life well for yourself!". One woman sought advice because she too "dreams of driving alone" and an awe-struck follower said: "Mom, look at her! When I get older, I'll live a colourful life like hers if I don't get married!"

For some, the takeaways are more pragmatic yet inspiring: "After watching your videos, I've learned this: as women, we must own our own home, cultivate friendships far and wide, work hard to be financially independent, and invest in unemployment insurance!"

Through it all, Su Min processes her own past. A stray cat she encounters on the road reminds her of herself, both of them having "weathered the wind and rain for years but still managing to love this world that dusts our faces". A visit to the market, where she smells chili peppers, evokes "the smell of freedom" because throughout her marriage spicy food was forbidden by her husband who didn't like it.

For years Su Min had been the dutiful daughter, wife and mother – even as her husband repeatedly struck her.

"I was a traditional woman and I wanted to stay in my marriage for life," she says. "But eventually I saw that I got nothing in return for all my energy and effort – only beatings, violence, emotional abuse and gaslighting."

Her husband, Du Zhoucheng, has admitted to hitting her. "It's my mistake that I beat you," he said in a video she recently shared on Douyin, TikTok's China platform.

A high school graduate, he had a government job in the water resources ministry for 40 years before retiring, according to local media reports. He told an outlet in 2022 that he beat his wife because she "talked back" and that it was "an ordinary thing": "In a family, how can there not be some bangs and crashes?"

When duty called

Su Min married Du Zhoucheng "really 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 fertiliser factory, where most of her female colleagues, including those younger than 20, already had husbands.

Her marriage was arranged by a matchmaker, which was common at the time. She had spent much of her life cooking for and looking after 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 that love would grow once they married.

Su Min did not find love. But she did have a daughter, and that is one reason she convinced herself she needed to endure the abuse.

"We are always so afraid of being ridiculed and blamed if we divorce, so we all choose to endure, but in fact, this kind of patience is not right," she says. "I later learned that, in fact, it can have a considerable impact on children. The child really doesn't want you to endure, they want you to stand up bravely and give them a harmonious home."

She thought of leaving her husband after her daughter got married, but soon she became a grandmother. Her daughter had twins – and once again duty called. She felt she needed to help care for them, although by now she had been diagnosed with depression.

"I felt that if I didn't leave, I would get sicker," she says. She promised her daughter she would care for the two boys until they went to kindergarten, and then she would leave.

The spark of inspiration for her escape came in 2019 while flicking through social media. She found a video about someone travelling while living in their van. This was it, she thought to herself. This was her way out.

Even the pandemic did not stop her. In September 2020, she drove away from her marital home in Zhengzhou and she barely looked 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. 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 her that they too feel trapped in suffocating marriages – some say her stories have inspired them to walk 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 one of the top comments on one of her most-watched videos.

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

A third woman asks: "Auntie Su, can I travel with you? I'll cover all the expenses. I just want to take a trip with you. I feel so trapped and depressed in my current life."

'Love yourself'

"Can you have the life of your dreams?" Su Min pondered over 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'm 60 now, I found what I was looking for."

She admits it wasn't easy and she had to live frugally on her pension. She thought the video blogs might help raise some money – she had no idea they would go viral.

She talks about what she's learned over the years and her latest challenge – finalising the divorce.

"I haven't got 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, unrestrained life. Congratulations, Auntie - here's to a colourful and fulfilling future!"

She says it's hard to get a divorce because "many of our laws in China are to protect the family. Women often dare not divorce because of family disharmony".

At first, she thought that Du Zhoucheng's behaviour might improve with time and distance, but she said he still threw "pots and pans" at her on her return.

He has only called her twice in the last few years – once because her highway access card was tied to his credit card and he wanted her to return 81 yuan (£0.90). She says she hasn't used that card since then.

Undeterred by the delay in securing a divorce, Su Min keeps planning more trips and hopes to one day travel abroad.

She's worried about overcoming language barriers, but is confident her story will resonate around the world - as it has in China.

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

Additional reporting by Fan Wang in Singapore

Exactly two months after her election loss to Donald Trump, Vice-President Kamala Harris will preside over the certification of her own defeat.

As president of the Senate, on Monday she will stand at the House Speaker's rostrum to lead the counting of Electoral College votes, officially cementing her rival's triumph two weeks before he returns to the White House.

The circumstances are painful and awkward for a candidate who decried her opponent as an urgent threat to American democracy, but Harris aides insist she will conduct her constitutional and legal duty with seriousness and grace.

It is not the first time a losing candidate will lead the joint session of Congress to count their opponent's presidential electors - Al Gore endured the indignity in 2001 and Richard Nixon in 1961.

But it's a fitting coda to an improbable election that saw Harris elevated from a back-up to the nation's oldest president to the Democratic standard bearer - whose fleeting campaign provided a jolt of hope to her party before a crushing loss exposed deep internal faultlines.

Harris and her team are now deliberating her second act, and weighing whether it includes another run for the White House in 2028 or pursuing a bid for the governor's mansion in her home state of California.

While recent Democratic candidates who lost elections - Al Gore, John Kerry, Hillary Clinton - have decided against seeking the presidency again, aides, allies and donors argue that the groundswell of support Harris captured in her unsuccessful bid and the unusual circumstances of her condensed campaign proves there's still scope for her to seek the Oval Office.

They even point to Donald Trump's own circuitous political path - the former and future president's bookend wins in 2016 and 2024, despite losing as the incumbent in 2020.

But while many Democrats do not blame Harris for Trump's win, some - stung by a bruising loss that has called the party's strategy into question - are deeply sceptical of giving her another shot at the White House. A host of Democratic governors who coalesced behind the vice-president in 2024 but have ambitions of their own are seen by some strategists as fresher candidates with a much better chance of winning.

Harris herself is said to be in no rush to make any decisions, telling advisers and supporters she is open to all the possibilities that await her after Inauguration Day on 20 January.

She is assessing the last few months, which saw her launch an entirely new White House campaign, vet a running-mate, lead a party convention and barnstorm the country in just 107 days. And aides point out that she remains the US vice-president, at least for another two weeks.

"She has a decision to make and you can't make it when you're still on the treadmill. It may have slowed down – but she's on the treadmill until 20 January," said Donna Brazile, a close Harris ally who advised the campaign.

"You can't put anyone in a box. We didn't put Al Gore in a box and it was obvious the country was very divided after the 2000 election," said Brazile, who ran Gore's campaign against George W Bush and pointed to his second life as an environmental activist. "All options are on the table because there's an appetite for change and I do believe that she can represent that change in the future."

But the nagging question that shadows any potential 2028 run is whether the 60-year-old can separate herself from Joe Biden - something she failed to do in the election campaign.

Her allies in the party say that Biden's choice to seek re-election despite worries about his age, only then to ultimately drop out of the race with months to go, doomed her candidacy.

Though Trump swept all seven battleground states and is the first Republican in 20 years to win the popular vote, his margin of victory was relatively narrow while Harris still won 75 million votes, an outcome her supporters argue can't be ignored as a currently faceless Democratic party rebuilds over the next four years.

On the other side, those close to Biden remain convinced he could have defeated Trump again, despite surveys showing he had been bleeding support from key Democratic voting blocs.

They point out that Harris fell short where the president didn't in 2020, underperforming with core Democratic groups like black and Latino voters. Critics continue to bring up her 2019 campaign to become the Democratic presidential nominee, which sputtered out in less than a year.

"People forget that had there been a real primary [in 2024], she never would have been the nominee. Everyone knows that," said one former Biden adviser.

The adviser, who spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss a sensitive matter, applauded Harris for reviving the Democratic base and helping key congressional races, but said Trump's campaign successfully undercut her on critical campaign issues including the economy and the border.

Members of Trump's team, however, including his chief pollster, have acknowledged that Harris performed stronger as a candidate than Biden on certain issues like the economy among voters.

Yet there's no escaping that any Democratic primary contest for 2028 would be a tough fight, with rising stars like Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer, Illinois Governor JB Pritzker and California Governor Gavin Newsom already weighing presidential runs.

Some Democrats say that Harris would nonetheless start ahead of the pack, with national name recognition, a much-coveted mailing list and a deep bench of volunteers.

"What state party would not want her to come help them set the table for the 2026 midterm elections?" Brazile said. "She's going to have plenty opportunities not only to rebuild, but to strengthen the coalition that came together to support her in 2024."

Others have suggested she could step out of the political arena entirely, running a foundation or establishing an institute of politics at her alma mater, Howard University, the Washington-based historically black college where she held her election night party.

The former top state prosecutor could also be a contender for secretary of state or attorney general in a future Democratic administration. And she'll need to decide if she wants to write another book.

For all of her options, Harris has told aides, she wants to remain visible and be seen as a leader in the party. One adviser suggested that she could exist outside the domestic political fray, taking on a more global role on an issue that matters to her, but that's a difficult perch without a platform as large as the vice-presidency.

In the waning days of the Biden-Harris administration, she plans to embark on an international trip to multiple regions, according to a source familiar with the plans, signalling her desire to maintain a role on the world stage and build a legacy beyond being Biden's number two.

For Harris and her team, the weeks since the election have been humbling, a mix of grief and resolve. Several aides described the three-month sprint that began when Biden dropped out as having begun with the campaign "digging out of a hole" and ending with their candidate more popular than when she began, even if she didn't win.

"There's a sense of peace knowing that given the hand we were dealt, we ran through the tape," said one senior aide.

Following the election, Harris and her husband, Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff, spent a week in Hawaii with a small group of aides to relax and discuss her future.

During a staff holiday party at her official residence before Christmas, Harris recounted election night and how she delivered a pep talk to her family as the results became clear.

"We are not having a pity party!" she told the crowd of her reaction that night.

Advisers and allies say she is still processing what happened, and wants to wait and see how the new administration unfolds in January before staking out any position, let alone seeking to become the face of any so-called Trump "resistance".

Democrats have found the resistance movement that took off among liberals in the wake of his 2016 win no longer resonates in today's political climate, where the Republican has proven that his message and style appeals to a huge cross-section of Americans.

They have adopted a more conciliatory approach in confronting the incoming president's agenda. As several Democrats put it: "What resistance?"

Though she's kept a relatively low profile since her loss, Harris provided a glimpse of her mindset at an event for students at Prince George's Community College in Maryland in December.

"The movements for civil rights, women's rights, workers' rights, the United States of America itself, would never have come to be if people had given up their cause after a court case, or a battle, or an election did not go their way," she said.

"We must stay in the fight," she added, a refrain she has repeated since her 2016 Senate win. "Everyone of us."

What that means is less clear. For some donors and supporters, staying "in the fight" could translate to a run for California governor in 2026, when a term-limited Gavin Newsom will step down and potentially pursue his own White House ambitions. The job, leading the world's fifth-largest economy, would also put Harris in direct conflict with Trump, who has regularly assailed the state for its left-leaning policies.

But governing a major state is no small feat, and would derail any presidential run, as she would be sworn into office about the same time she would need to launch a national campaign.

Those who have spoken to Harris said she remains undecided about the governor's race, which some allies have described as a potential "capstone" to her career.

She has won statewide office three times as California's attorney general and later as a US senator. But a gubernatorial win would give her another historic honour - becoming the nation's first black female governor.

Still, some allies acknowledge it would be difficult to transition from being inside a 20-car motorcade and having a seat across the table from Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky to the governor's mansion.

The private sector is another option.

"For women at other levels of office, when they lose an election, sometimes options are not as available to them compared to men, who get a soft landing at a law firm or insurance business, and it gives them a place to take a beat, make some money and then make decisions about what's next," said Debbie Walsh, director for the Center for American Women and Politics at Rutgers University.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem for Kamala Harris. I think doors will open for her if she wants to open them."

But for Harris, who has been in elected office for two decades, and worked as a public prosecutor before that, an afterlife as governor may be the most fitting option.

"When you've had one client – the people – for the entirety of your career," said one former adviser, "where do you go from here?"