I made you something. I’m writing this in between moments at a horsemanship clinic, with dust on my boots, sun-burned lips, and approximately fourteen other things I’m supposed to be doing. And that feels oddly appropriate, because this thing I made was never meant to be a glossy, perfect-life sort of project. It was built in the middle of real life… Around full days and late dinners. Around kids and animals and business ...Continue Reading
The Cost of Becoming Yourself
When a lifelong people-pleaser starts telling herself the truth. I’ve spent most of my life trying to be easy…. Dependable. Predictable. Agreeable. My biggest aim was to never make waves or cause others to be uncomfortable… But lately, I’ve become less willing to be easy. I’m not trying to be contrary for the sake of being contrary, but I’m finally telling myself the truth about what I can carry and what I can’t. Now ...Continue Reading
The Girl Who Saw Treasure in Junk
Because beauty doesn't have to be new. I was one of those Breyer horse girls. Surely you’ve known one. Maybe you were one. My obsession ran deep. At my peak, I had hundreds of models. I showed them, traded them, painted them, and arranged them. It was intense, to say the least. I was loading a beat-up old icebox into the back of my car the other day and had a déjà vu moment. There it was again: the same ridiculous thrill ...Continue Reading
My Figureoutable List
Becoming the kind of woman who picks up the nail gun and tries. I’ve always considered myself pretty capable. I can cook, bake, can, butcher chickens, run a restaurant, ride a horse, rope (sort of), drive a stick shift, haul a trailer, work cattle, vaccinate, garden, milk, and probably a handful of other things I’m not thinking of at the moment. But as I’ve stepped into my latest life transition, I’ve realized something ...Continue Reading
How I Unbecame a Homestead Influencer
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, ...Continue Reading
