So, this post is a long time coming. I’m conflicted, torn, hesitant. Yet, transparency is so important to me.
I’m floundering in this season of my life. We are in the process of transitioning the farm, and it isn’t all stress-free or easy going. It’s not what I thought it would be – and I really didn’t know what to think.
I feel like I should change my name on Facebook to A Farm Wife – Retired. I almost feel like I’m a fraud posting under my current name. A large part of my identity is in the name and now that I’m not as active in that role, I feel displaced.
I have these voices in my head from – “No one really cares if you ever post again” to “While I don’t know hardly any of my followers I have come to really care and love hearing from them. I really don’t want to shut down.”
Can I survive without social media – yep.
Will the world keep spinning if I never post again – yep.
Will I be missed if I don’t? – maybe.
Since we’ve been going through this change, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with many others who are in the same position and let me tell you, farm transitioning isn’t for the weak of heart. The horror stories I’ve heard.
In the next few weeks, I’m hoping to use my transparency card anonymously. I plan to share and tell other’s stories mixed in with mine in a way that you, my favorite readers will not know who is being written about. I believe these voices need to be heard and I haven’t heard much like them so, I plan on telling the stories of myself and others.
It’s difficult to part with a lifestyle that you’ve been living for over 50 years. You don’t just walk through the door, close it behind you and meander into a new life. At least, I haven’t been able to do that.
I’ve got the door open, and I’ve walked through it, but it is still cracked open a little. I’m just not sure when, if or how I will be able to return through it again. We still move cattle and once my knee is totally healed, I’ll be more involved with that again. I feel like I’m doing the hokey pokey with the farm.
52 years ago in September, I moved down the church aisle and on to this farm. I never pictured myself in this season and navigation isn’t easy.
. . . . to be continued. . . .
