I’m going to be 100% honest here:
Homesteading is not easy.
It is not all happy, healthy, bouncing babies, or bumper crop after bumper crop.
It’s not all joy and laughter.
It just simply isn’t.
Truthfully, homesteading isn’t for the faint of heart.
We wouldn’t trade it for the world, though.
This might not be the post you want to read today; however, it’s something I feel every new homesteader should see. Give it a share if it hits home for you, because there may be someone out there who needs to hear it.
“What Is Homesteading Then,” You Ask? “Why Is It So Glorified?”
It’s a love and hate relationship: you love it beyond words, but you hate the grief and disappointment that comes.
It’s a package deal.
Homesteading is bitter sweet; both tragic, and beautiful.
It’s (a way of) life essentially, and glorified for good reason.
We, like every single other homesteader, have had our ups and downs. Incredible triumphs we never imagined possible, and losses that pack such a hard punch you’re left breathless.
It’s just part of it.
Some only show the beautiful, magical side of things; they’re not being honest with you, though. They’re not showing you their mistakes, or their failures, you’ll see few mentioning total devastation due to disease, pests, or predators; they’re only showing you what they think you want to see; just like any other friend on social media tends to do.
They want to show you good things, as negative experiences and posts just aren’t what viewers and readers want to see when they log in to their social accounts throughout the day.
But, there’s always going to be something going on, big or small.
You’re Going to Lose Animals.
This is one of the hardest parts for most people. Some events are worse than others, and you’re going to want to throw in the towel and give up many times.
Your favorite doe might die two days after giving birth, leaving you crying, sleepless, while bottle feeding newborn kids.
Those gorgeous Lavender Ameraucana pullets you’d been saving for were finally reaching point of lay… and a predator swooped in, leaving nothing but feathers and a badly damaged run.
Your new family milk cow, after several rounds of failed AI, miscarries her calf just as you begin to feel confident in her pregnancy. You can’t afford to go through with it again, financially or emotionally.
You’re Going to Lose Crops.
Year after year, you’re going to have some kind of crop loss or damage.
Whether the barn cat digs up your entire bed of carrot seedlings, treating it as a litter box.
Maybe squash bugs will obliterate your squash plants; then the following year, with all of your dedication to picking eggs and spraying your plants daily, squash borers swoop in undetected and take every last plant down… again.
Your apple tree completely defoliates due to cedar rust, and your blueberries fail to thrive due to the waterlogged clay.
Your lettuce bolted, your radishes are too hot, and you accidentally forgot to water your seedlings on a hot spring day: 100% loss.
Next thing you know, your onion plants begin disappearing, then you discover (at harvest) all of your bulbs are stinky, and slimy. All of that hard work, for (nearly) nothing.
It hurts, it does. You’re going to want to quit- many DO quit, because they think they “don’t have what it takes.”
…. If only they’d hang in for a bit longer…
They’d already gone through the hard part!
You’re Going to Face Obstacles, Headaches, and… Life.
Things are going to happen.
Construction on your coop may be delayed due to repeated rain.
Mandatory overtime at work means your garden is overgrown, nearly unable to be reclaimed.
Then, the horn-worms sneak in, unbeknownst to you.
Your fence might not be adequate for your pigs, resulting in repeated escapes, especially when you don’t have enough time to repair it until the weekend.
Maybe your tiller or lawn mower just quits working, and you have no truck, no idea how to transport it for repairs.
Maybe you can’t afford repairs, period.
Things get crazy. Very crazy. It’s going to test your sanity, your patience, your spirit… I can promise that.
But you’re going to come out on the other side with a smile on your face.
You’re Going to Work Hard, so, so Hard.
Homesteading is a labor of love.
It’s getting up 3 hours early, making sure everyone’s fed.
It’s doing hourly checks at night (or sitting outside all night), because someone’s having a rough labor; and you really want to see those babies take their first breath.
It’s cancelling your night out with friends, because the ground is only right for tilling for a few hours; it finally dried enough after a week’s worth of rain, but it’ll rain again that evening- and every day for the next week.
It’s spending an hour every day weeding, trying to stay one foot ahead in case something comes up, requiring you to neglect weeding for days at a time.
If you have children, it’s also going to include doing a little extra housework… and a lot of following littles around, picking up and straightening the objects that once piqued their curiosity, ultimately left behind in a beautiful mess as their whirlwind of wonder makes its way into the next room. Alright, maybe its not so beautiful… but their imagination and curious little minds are.
You live and breathe your homestead and your home; it becomes a big part of who you are as a person.
It becomes your purpose, your family’s sustenance, your happy place.
That’s Where It Becomes Beautiful. It’s YOUR Happy Place.
Through all of the tragic things that may happen, the bad days, the set backs…
You still know that you’d rather be no place else.
You begin to see the small things, the beautiful simple things.
That might be a smile on your child’s face when the very first sprout comes up from the garden he or she planted.
It could be that, of the dozens of cuttings you took for your very first propagation attempt, a single cutting has a tiny little root; a tiny little success, among what feels like a mountain of defeat.
Then, a different doe delivers quads… Somehow, she manages to nurse them all successfully; and each of them are does, a pipe dream that came to fruition. How much more luck could you possibly get???
Yeah, your entire day’s harvest of tomatoes is pretty much split or cracked… but that’s a-okay, because you’re just going to cut out the bad parts, preserve your harvest, and feel like a million bucks when you finally sit down to relax, in utter exhaustion. You did that- you put away your own tomato harvest, and you didn’t let anything stop you from doing it. Perhaps you’ll choose a crack resistant variety next year; but maybe not. Maybe you like them so much, you see past their tendency to crack… and you grow them every year, thereafter. We do!
That little spark keeps most of us going through the hard days.
You learn to focus on these positives, on your successful harvests, on what you DO receive.
The rest? They’re all lessons. Maybe hard lessons, but valuable nonetheless.
It’s a challenge; it’s a priceless education, lessons learned that could one day help your family to survive.
It’s worth so much more than the newer homesteader has yet to realize; today, I’m not trying to scare the newcomers away from homesteading.
I’m simply lowering the bar a bit, quite a bit from what many portray online. It’s okay to fail.
Did you hear me? Let me say that one more time: IT’S OKAY TO FAIL!
Give yourself some slack, because you’re going to lose just as many battles as you win. As a matter of fact, you’ll probably fail again and again. The secret for most of us? We keep on truckin’.
But you’re going to eventually succeed, and I believe in you. You CAN do it, you will make it; you just have to put your heart into it, and keep it there.
If you’re passionate about it, if you’re open to the universe’s sometimes harsh criticisms, you’ll make it.
“I Want to Sell My Homestead and My Animals. I’m Overwhelmed.”
Just Don’t Give Up. We’ve All Been There, and Some of Us ARE Listening.
We’ve been where you’re at, and we’ve all known the devastation, the failure, the disappointment.
Just don’t throw in the towel; give it at least a week before you try to post every head of livestock you have on Craigslist, or attempt to sell off your hay and tools.
It may be a relief when you do, but you’re likely to regret it.
There’s a reason you stepped towards this lifestyle, and there’s a reason you made it this far.
Perhaps your model homesteader set some unrealistic hopes or dreams, and the reality has been hard to handle.
But you’re already here; why not see where your story takes you?
If you’ve made it this far, there’s something you’re relating to here.
Our inbox is open to anyone who needs that extra push, to someone who has tried so hard, only to be met with failure. We all need an ear at times, and unfortunately, many of us are in it alone.
For most homesteaders, family and friends don’t “get” it, and it makes it hard to find someone to talk to.
So I’m here, raising my hand, letting you know that you’ve got a friend in us. We might not have all of the answers, but we may have the one you need. If all else fails, you have our support.
Until the next time: happy homesteading, y’all!
(Also, feel free to leave YOUR OWN story in the comments here, and how you rose above the problems you’ve encountered. That little inspiration could help another more than you might realize!)