Hello, everyone. I have a confession to make:
I grew up on a farm.
For the longest time, this felt like something I needed to hide. In high school, I avoided FFA and agriculture classes, choosing instead to spend time with the choir crowd, some of the kindest people you’ll ever meet (and, let’s be honest, who doesn’t love friends who can sing?). I put in only the bare minimum effort caring for the steers and tending the garden entrusted to me, a topic I explore more thoroughly in a future post. Even in college, I was hesitant to share details about my rural upbringing.
Yet, there was always a part of me that enjoyed homesteading. The summer after my freshman year of college, I spent days blanching and freezing green beans. I asked my dad to teach me how to make sauerkraut. I even attempted, many times, and failed, to make homemade pizza (a skill I’m proud to say I’ve since perfected).
I remember exactly when my perspective began to shift. Shortly before my junior year, I posted on Facebook about a glut of cucumbers in our garden, asking if anyone wanted some. Several college friends responded enthusiastically, but I didn’t believe they were serious and left the cucumbers at home. Seeing their disappointed faces made me realize that my experience of having plentiful fresh vegetables was far from typical. Later, at my first post-college job, coworkers were genuinely impressed when I mentioned my agricultural background.
These experiences have given me a new sense of perspective and pride in the values I learned during my upbringing. Today, I share my “confession” with pride and dedicate this post to all the hardworking farmers out there, especially my friends and family who have been, and continue to be, stewards of the land.
Have you embraced something about yourself that you previously hid? Share your experiences below, and subscribe to join a group of like-minded people.
Practical Homesteading 
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