Shedding the old identity but keeping the living parts…
I thought the homesteading part of me had gone quiet. Maybe even died.
I suspected it was burnout. Or at least, I thought that’s what it was.
But I now realize there was something deeper at play… Less about tomatoes and chores and old routines, and more about identities—the ones we choose, the ones that choose us, and the ones that fit for a season until suddenly, they don’t.
Those of you who are newer to me and my writings may not know that homesteading, and sharing it online has been one of the biggest identities of my adult life.
I didn’t set out to become a homestead influencer. (Honestly, the term “influencer” still makes me want to barf.) I was just a young mom on the Wyoming prairie who felt lonely and restless and hungry for something real. I wanted to raise my children differently. I wanted something more than the shallow facade of modern life.
Homesteading was exactly right for me at the time.
But it wasn’t cool back then and people around me didn’t understand it. I often felt dismissed and even judged. We got raised eyebrows when we brought home chickens and goats, and “Ew, gross!” comments when I talked about making homemade yogurt. But I was so excited by what I was learning I needed a place to talk about why these skills mattered to me.
So I started a homesteading blog—one of the first of its kind, way before “homesteading” was a polished Instagram category. Back then, there were a handful of us with clunky Blogspot sites, fuzzy photos, and an insatiable craving to live differently.
And my little blog grew. Over time, it branched into social media accounts and books and courses and a YouTube channel and a podcast and all the other things.
And I loved it. ALL of it. Both homesteading and my newfound penchant for entrepreneurship. It changed my life in nearly every way, and I’m profoundly grateful for all of it.
But something happens when the thing you love becomes the thing you’re known for.
At first, it was just life… but then it became content.
Then content became a business.
Then the business became an identity.
Then the identity became an expectation.
And that’s when things start to get muddy.
Because when your life becomes your work (which is a gift in many ways) it’s easy to lose track of where your real desire ends and the public expectation begins.
Suddenly, every season and project and experiment had the potential to become a tutorial, a photo, a podcast, a blog post, or a video.
A garden wasn’t just a garden. A loaf of bread wasn’t just a loaf of bread. A chicken coop wasn’t just a chicken coop.
It was all part of the story people expected me to keep telling.
That’s not right or wrong… it just is.
Now at this point in the story, people might accuse me of mere performance or of only living this lifestyle to “make money.”
That was absolutely not the case. I loved the skills and farming and food with every fiber of my being.
But it became increasingly heavy under the weight of producing content and providing more, more, more for the public. Plus the constant wondering if people would be disappointed if I wasn’t constantly expanding, producing, building, growing, or proving.
And of course, as more homestead influencers came onto the scene, and the whole thing became even more crowded, more performative, and more loaded. Homesteading became tangled up with aesthetics, politics, purity tests and internet scorecards.
And whatever affection I still had for the “movement” took a steep nosedive.
I started wondering: Am I done with this? Was that just a season? What remains if that identity falls away?
For a while, I was okay with not knowing. I explored other parts of myself. I wrote about deeper things. I let myself outgrow the box a little. I stopped forcing myself to care about things simply because they were “on brand.”
I gave myself permission to be more than just the “homestead girl.” And that was necessary. Oh so necessary. But just when I felt at peace with laying the whole thing to rest—maybe even forever—something interesting happened.
And as I was packing cabinets and drawers, I was confronted with so many artifacts of my homesteading identity.
Soapmaking supplies. Sprouting lids. Cheese presses. Fermenting crocks. Jars. (SO many jars.)
I hadn’t forgotten about them entirely, but they’d been buried under layers of burnout and the low-grade blah that had settled over so much of homesteading for me. Once upon a time, those tools had represented possibility, but over the past couple years, they’d become just one more thing I was supposed to care about.
But that day, instead of feeling the usual blah, I felt the most unexpected spark.
I started thinking about sprouts on the counter. About keeping chickens on a smaller scale. About rendering a fresh batch of tallow. About organizing the new barn. About making my new place feel alive and rooted.
And I realized that maybe I wasn’t done with homesteading after all… Maybe I was just done with the bloated, complicated version of it.
I’ve been in my new house for nearly three weeks and I’m feeling a buzz of excitement I haven’t felt in years.
Yes, part of it is the new place. But more than anything, I think it’s the size of it.
It’s smaller. More manageable. Less grand. Less impressive.
And it feels strangely wonderful.
The big, fancy stuff I had was a gift in so many ways. The expansive gardens, the sprawling greenhouse, the fancy milking parlor, the big beautiful life I built around all of it. I’m profoundly grateful I experienced it for a time.
But there is a burden that comes with maintaining something large, especially when that “something” is not just physical, but public.
And frankly, I don’t want that right now.
I just want humble, simple, and enough.
I want to come back to the reasons I started chasing this lifestyle in the first place: the old skills, the good food, the satisfaction of figuring things out, the respect for seasons, the belief that convenience isn’t always the highest good.
Those are the parts I’m keeping. And I’m walking away from the titles and labels, the pressure to do everything huge, the belief that I must be one thing forever, and most of all—the fear of disappointing people by changing.
I will no longer be trapped by a version of myself that once fit but has now grown too small.
I think most of us carry identities like that. Not bad ones, necessarily. They may even be beautiful identities— roles and labels that were once deeply right for us.
But at some point, they start to feel tight. And sometimes they need to fall away— not because they were false, but because you outgrew them.
Right now most of all, I’m reminding myself that identity shifts are not always failure or regression. They can be growth and discernment and what happens when you give yourself permission to become more honest.
So I guess I’m not burning down my homesteading chapter after all. At least not completely. I’m simply letting it become right-sized again.
It will be a piece of me, but not all of me. A practice, but not a prison. A passion, but not a performance.
And I’m excited— for the first time in a long time.
My new life is small and humble and simple, but it feels so me.
And yes, I’ll bring you along for the ride. But not in an “I know everything, let me teach you all my perfected systems” sort of way. More like: pull up a chair and let’s chat while I figure this out.
So I’m bucking allll the labels right now— especially the “homesteader” and the “influencer” ones.
I’m just doing me, paying attention to what makes me feel alive.
And right now, that is more than enough.
-Jill
P.S. Yes, I read Yesteryear and was entertained by it, even though I rarely consume pop fiction. I have thoughts— maybe I’ll share them in a future podcast episode.
You know, maybe you need a vacation from your blog. Maybe you need time for yourself for a while. There’s been changes in your life, and maybe you need to breath deep, for a while.
The chores will always be there, there’s always weeds to be pulled. But, sometimes a person needs to sir back and take a break.
I’m always entertained by “ homesteader influencers”. Like living a life out of the main stream was/is something new. When I had chickens, a huge garden, canning, bread making and all the cooking from scratch was more of a need, financially and I liked doing it. We just didn’t have the internet to make a blog and a business out of living within our means.
I can understand being swallowed by the expectations and the business you built.
I’m looking forward to hearing and reading about Jill. You have been on a journey!
I have followed you for many years and, for the past couple of them I could tell that something was off.
It seemed to me that you were just tired of it all. Seems like I wasn’t far off.
Do what you have to do – for you, not us.
We will all (your readers and you) be better off for it.
Have a good day!
I remember these photos. I remember the fun of following your blogs and feeling a part of it all somehow.
What’s interesting is that I’ve taken a similar path of inner growth as you these last few years. I’m basically where you are now, discovering who I am now, including downsizing and loving it! I will be continuing to follow your journey.
You are an inspiration! I’m also going through a scary life change and I’m learning to let go of a few things that aren’t bringing me peace. Thank you so much for sharing!
I embrace your comment about identity shifts and would take it one step further… Identity shifts are rarely failure or regression. They are progress and the start of becoming aware. The next chapter may hold tremendous things.
You’ve got this!
As always, Jill, you say what so many of us are thinking. Myself included. The enjoy thing has gotten so big and noisy. Im tired of people telling me they only want chicken content. No lifestyle, no recipes. I’m tired of people asking me how many chickens I have and then challenging me that they have more- as if the number of chickens you have makes you an expert. I have seriously downsized as well. We have 7 chickens. 4 ducks. 2 geese. A small garlic bed and an herb garden. I want to create for myself because I enjoy it, not for an algorithm. You have been, and always will be, an inspiration for me.
Thanks for the kind words, Lisa! I really appreciate it. 🙂 I’m glad to know that I’m not the only one downsizing and finding contentment by ignoring the algorithm. You inspire me, too!
Life is an ever-changing journey as you are experiencing. Enjoy it, be curious and be thankful for what you can do. I personally love a small garden! Big ones overwhelm me quickly.
I learned a lot of really cool things from you over the years. You are a talented lady and you are gonna be just fine as you find your new path. Still enjoying your posts very much.
Keep on keeping on! I love the new and evolving you!
I’m almost 80, so much older than you and yours. I too was caught up in an earlier homsteading era, back in the late 60’s. That bug never got very far for me, but what remained and still does is the desire and practice of making things myself, the “old fashioned way.” So, for many years I developed my own yogurt making procedures, making what I claim is the better than any yogurt one can buy. And, then, there was breadmaking, that has today grown into weekly sour dough bread baking.
I married a farm girl and when I retired I purchased a 70 acre farm in South Dakota. It was here that I explored all the things that you speak of: raising layers, goats, sheep, producing my own chicken feed, haying. It wasn’t homesteading. I didn’t need the money. In fact, the more I do, the more it costs me. I explored solar panels from many angles, eventually deciding against it. Built a winter greenhouse, even published an article about its use and failure. Built a barn, purchased farm equipment, all of it much older than you. Anyway, it was my experiment, one that is winding down. I wanted to at least experience what it was like to not be on the dole, that is, to not depend on anyone else for infrastructure, salary, and support. I have done that much, and I am amazed by all the people surrounding me that actually do make a living at this kind of work, like my wife’s parents and her siblings. But now, almost 80, I’m winding down. The end is near. My back tells me so. As many in my situation, I’ve moved to renting out land, where I can actually make a little money.
There have been a number of times in my life when I was very poor that I had to rely upon my wits to get through the day and into tomorrow. We might call such people self-employed, but it really reflects what homesteading is at heart about. It’s a kind of freedom that can be scary. Today, we rely so much upon anonymous social networks to feel the bottom. When I first began my experiment, I quickly learned that I really don’t know how to proceed. Unless you’ve been raised in such an environment everything is a mystery. What you quickly grasp for is your neighbors, others that know just a little more than you do. You’re in the business of creating and joining a small community, one in which you know where they live. In this way, you learn for the first time what community is and why you need it. In the midst of large farms, raising beans and corn, I did find such a community of people not very much different than I, all of us trying to figure out marketing and growing customers.
You already know all of this. It is my sixty year connection with something like homesteading that draws me to your story. It seems that, despite a shock, you have found or are finding your feet again. The ground was always there. You just needed reminding. God bless.
I love your story and your perspective. Thanks for sharing it.
Very nicely said. Life is about growing and to keep learning.
I enjoy having time with nature.
Hi Jill,
Thank you for being real. I don’t know what season your in age wise, but every decade brings a fresh and deeper perspective of what really matters, if we’re paying attention.
Someone once said, “Stop the glorification of busy.” That’s what happened to me, and after all the shedding, I found I like where I am now more than ever.
Blessings on the joy of living simply!
Julia
I’m glad you are back. I was missing the old you.
Wishing you all the best in this challenging journey. You’ve always been amazing, but you haven’t had to be. I think most of us accepted anything you were able to teach us. It sounds like you’re a perfectionist and work hard, be the perfect hostess with the mostus! We don’t need that. We just need some of that wants to share what she’s learned. take care of yourself and when you feel like teaching a little something do it, but don’t do it otherwise. Just take care of yourself and your family that’s the most important thing!!
Change is hardest for those around you and often will hold you back. You have many followers who do not mean to hold you back, and would never want to, but only saw you in one way.
It is good to change. Keep growing. Life is never just one thing.
Sounds like your finding your new self! What possibilities. You are more than enough and the people that follow your journeys are blessed to have you share through a crack in the window. Thank you for that. It will get easier. Your making a new trail for yourself God Bless
I love that you used the phrase “right-sized”! In the corporate world – that I am unfortunately still very much a part of – that phrase has a very negative connotation. It is generally the PC version of layoffs. But I believe that the intent of the phrase is very appropriate when we migrate through different seasons of our lives.
Keep doing what you’re doing girlfriend! Aside from all the other amazing skills and talents you have, I think your ability to verbalize what so many of us have (or are) experienced is your true gift! Whether it is taking about seed starting or starting over, you have a way of speaking to my heart and putting words to my feelings. And for that, I am eternally grateful!
PROFOUND!! Thank You.
I am an 87 year old and wish I could do it all over again , your way , my way .
Thanks for all
Jill, you have always been the same girl I learned from at the beginning of you kitchen tour, making bread, and watching the kiddos warm a calf I the breezeway. It is part of you. Go low and slow and do “You.” I read your last blog to my husband and he said, “wow, she is good writer!” Keep going! I loved you then and I love you now. Side note… inn case you read this…I am surprised you want to stay in Wyoming. So blistering cold!?
Thank you so much for the kind words! I really appreciate it. 🙂 And yes, I love Wyoming and I’ll probably be here to stay.
Jill you are the only person that I have watched for homesteading. At the time I was really ill so it was just a dream for me. Well this spring I built a bucket garden. Have stray kittens and my dogs. I just built a green house and can’t wait to get that going. I have also built a coop that is small for 2-4 chickens. But have not gotten any yet. But excited to get the right ones. For my health i need to eat clean…. not poison from the stores. You inspired me. Thank you.
After all of the posts of yours that I’ve read and digested; after all the skills I’ve embarked on learning largely by your example; after all the interviews you created with interesting people which kept me sane on long drives, I just want to say that I’m glad you’re happy. And thank you!
Thank you for your kind words! I appreciate it and I appreciate you!
I don’t know if you’re still doing your podcast, but if you are, I want to come on as a guest for an episode titled “The Term Influencer Makes Me Want to Barf”.
I don’t know how you kept up with all that for so long. It’s okay to just be you, to do what you’re comfortable with, to relax some, to enjoy life. I appreciate what you taught – some of it I could use, some not, but I’m a senior coping with a husband with failing health and sometimes my health goes wacky. I do what I can and you should be able to do the same. Get used to your new life, grieve, enjoy simple things and keep learning.
I have been here since the beginning. Loved Prairie Girl helping her mom. Enjoyed every bit of this story and I am sure you will always be a story teller. Take time for yourself. Life is real, has moving parts, and needs to be savored while you live it. You are not obligated to us. It is Your Life…. Live it to satisfy your self and your family, those whom you love and love you back.
Happy Homesteading!
Happiest is the heart that recognizes what is NO and what is YES!
I completely agree about the term “influencer”! I can’t stand it!
I think there is something a bit parasitic about that term. When someone creates a blog, a book, or some photos because it’s something they want to do, they are a writer or a photographer, and they have achieved something for its own sake. When someone describes themselves first and foremost as an “influencer”, I feel there is something very wrong about it – it’s no longer about creating or achieving anything for its own sake, it’s all about “influencing”.
“I know everything, let me teach you all my perfected systems”
I think there is a lot of pressure to teach things in this way, whether it’s external pressure, or self-imposed. WordPress even has an AI checker that picks up on “unconfident words” such as “probably”, “maybe”, and a bunch of other human stuff, and tells bloggers to stop using these words, as if the only way to write anything is this 100% confident “this is the only way to do this task and I’m the expert” way rather than “this is what I did”. It’s creepy that there are robots trying to tell people to write less like humans and more like robots.
I look forward to reading more about your journey at the new place.
Jill,
I’ve followed you for years but never commented. I have your cookbook, book, many years worth of planners. You’ve taught me to cook, to garden, to try new things and learn new skills. You’ve been like a virtual big sister who doesn’t know me but cheers me on as I build confidence in self-reliance.
Rather than a label of “homestead influencer”, I hope you can take some comfort in how I’ve described you. It’s more personal, authentic, and not at all expectant of your perfection on any level.
Through your recent posts I’ve been challenged by your story. I’ve hurt for your situation, I’ve prayed for you and your family, and I’ve spent time in prayer and reflection personally as a wife and mom who sorta-kinda tries to homestead on my little 1 acre. My husband and I have an opportunity to go bigger (10 acres) with a blank canvas to do all the things. But I’ve struggled with that temptation. Because my little, full, old house is paid off and enough. I can’t have cows or even sheep. But I have a handful of hens and a little garden that is mostly consumed by my hens… haha And so I pray for the gift of contentment mixed with courage. And discernment to know where to pursue growth and where to just rest.
Idk if you’ll actually read this. Don’t blame you if you don’t. At any rate, I don’t judge you. I appreciate you. And I pray for you knowing that I don’t know or want to know all the details. I just want you and your family to have peace.
Take a break from social media and all of us who support you. Or step away entirely. We understand.
Thank you for everything.
I’m in a similar stage of my life. I just retired after 32 years of teaching. My whole identity to my community has been I’m their high school science teacher. I have also embraced a more simple life several years ago and started a home based business, Rustic Roots & Simple Living. People didn’t understand it at first. Why was I so passionate about soap, and simple products for my home? For me it is an appreciation for what nature has given us. A step back from our AI influenced world and industry telling us what we need. I’ve found I can do a lot of things on 2 and a half acres. I’m comfortable in my own skin at this point in my life. I don’t have to explain it to anybody. I’m happy that you are finding that spark again!
We are raised to think that what we do for work is who we are and a lifestyle brand is a business not something any of us watching can really integrate into our lives. Your smaller scale is probably going to be even more achievable for most of us.
Witnessing your starting a new chapter, managing important endings, making adjustments after lived-experiences and co-parenting with new logistics all while demonstrating grace and honoring what is most important for you, is a gift to us all. Reality-tv-spilled-into-new-media might be popular, but it doesn’t create connection in a meaningful way. Your recalibration is the stuff of real life we all experience even if the details are different.
All the best to you.
Yes yes and yes!!!! ? Simple, small, let’s chat, let’s figure it out together! Back to the basics of life and friends and conversations! Keep your head up there lady! I know the word “influencer” is a yucky word (been thereyself and it was hard to stay in it with all of the blah) but you ARE still influencing many of us with the raw and the real, something that so many do not do anymore! ?
Great review of your experience, I have actually gone through this 3 times in my long career. I have learn to embrace it and roll with it (almost let chaos happen). I have been concerned that many of the food forests and homestead content creators are possibly attracting a naive audience. It is work and commitment,, I love it and understand it as I was a active participant in the Edible Landscape movement of the 1970’s and 80’s. Early ‘food forests’ were all my landscapes were about. But then my career took off, 3 kids and life/work’s continual challenges, after about 10 years it was overwhelming but i was consumed and driven by it. That said I did step away and downsized, that was the first time. I loved where i ended up. Now I have downsized again because of my age, still it love it but today it is totally on my terms. the best to you in your new adventure
Homesteading for me is just a way of life. We never called it homesteading. We called it normal day to day farm & ranch life. We never blogged about it but we sure wrote everything down so we would know what worked and what didn’t. I love it that you, my friend, have brought it back to life. People who were not raised in, have the privilege of learning it from a delightful lady and mother, who learned things and sought to teach. Well done. I admire you no matter what you’re doing. I’m a fan even when you are not gardening out loud. I think we all do.
This makes so much sense. There is only so much pressure one can take before we explode. It’s good you recognized it before it went too far. I am sorry about your marriage. This breaks my heart. I remember when your website used to say “To God Be the Glory” at the bottom…. You were my inspiration 10 years ago! I use your first cookbook all the time. We shall always love you in our house, Jill!! May you find your center of peace always, and stay right there!
Take it one step at a time. And even stop to ” smell the roses”, or whatever catches your eye. It’s time we ALL just notice LIFE, where ever we are. The creations that are before US. It’s not about fitting in to a group, box, cliche. It’s learning to be YOU. Different from everyone else. And sharing ( when you want) the beauty before you. We ALL see different even standing side by side. It’s like our first steps as a toddler, so scary though very freeing once we get it right. Time to explore this world, and learn something old & renew it. I feel you are there, and enjoying the New in your life.
It’s your time to spread your wings & explore Life.
Go forth?????????