Sparkle Time

Why I'm a badass lady-farmer and still single

“Listen up, bitches!” I exclaimed, opening the front door dramatically. Stepping boldly outside to greet the day, I sucked in a deep breath of the cool morning air and said with satisfaction: “It’s Sparkle Time!”

Birds called as the sun climbed above the tree tops, flitting from the naked lilac bushes to the birdfeeder as I emerged from the farmhouse. The sheep maaaa’d from their pen behind the garage, and Murphy, my trusty black lab, danced at my feet, eager to begin the day.

More than ever I find reassurance and comfort in my own existence. I’ve found purpose, peace, and a sense of self I’d never known before. By retraining my mind to focus on “Sparkle Time”, as I laughingly refer to it, I’m cultivating the authenticity I’ve so long craved. It’s my life’s new mantra, lol, and I’m loathe to give that up.

Welcome to the latest Updates From the Farm! If you are new here, I invite you to check out my About page to learn what this is, who I am and why I am doing this. Or just dive right in! At “Runamuk Acres” you’ll find the recantings of one lady-farmer and tree-hugging activist from the western mountains of Maine. #foodieswanted

The Freedom of Being Single

I went out last weekend─on a date. It’s been nearly a year since my last break-up. As much as I am enjoying the freedom of being single, I admit there are times when loneliness and the ache to have someone love me is overwhelming. It was both a disappointment and a relief when I realized this guy wasn’t “The One”.

Of course I want someone special to share this beautiful farm with. To share my life with. Yet, my authenticity is still so new that it’s fragile. It takes practice in private to strengthen that sense of self. And then, courage to take that self out in public. To have the temerity to be utterly an wholly yourself─and not allow people’s reactions to that authenticity to color your day or shrink your person.

I’m sure it’s a lot to do with my chosen line of work that makes social interactions more difficult for me. For all the societal growth we’ve had in the last hundred years or so, farming and beekeeping remain a male-dominated career field that gets little respect.

The same goes for writing. Tell people you’re a writer and, unless you’re the equivalent of Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, you’re shown very little respect. Tell people you write romance of all things and they’re more likely to scoff or laugh than not.

Then there’s my damnable altruistic nature. No one goes into farming for the money─there is no money in it. Farming is a labor of love. I’ve taken it a step further, however, with my environmental activism. Turning my farm into an ecological reserve, participating in citizen science projects and literally hugging trees.

Not all men, but more than a few, are very logical and pragmatic by nature. It comes with the testicles, I think─just as the tendency to be more emotional and nurturing comes with women’s mammary glands.

Almost always a potential suitor will get around to asking if I’m actually making any money with my farm. And when he does, I know in that moment he is not the one for me. I have a greater purpose in life than money. If someone can’t see that, then I have no patience for them.

When you think about it, money and credit is all a man-made construct and what value does it really offer our existence?

The real clincher, though, is that I refuse to play the role of the domesticated and dutiful housewife─ever again. Too many times in the past I’ve been silenced and shrunken in my relationships. I’ve been pushed into that box of female servitude, shunted to the kitchen and expected to sacrifice my own wants and needs for the man’s benefit. How can you build anything meaningful that way?

You can’t.

I want a different sort of relationship this time. A partnership in all things. Someone who values me enough to allow me a voice in the relationship (I shouldn’t even have to say this, but experience dictates otherwise). Someone who makes me feel safe enough to express myself and be my authentic self. A man willing to put in the effort required to build something truly special. Because if he’s willing to do the work, I will meet that man every step of the way, and the love that we grow together would be the most bountiful harvest of all.

And he has to be more of a man than me, lol.

That’s what I want.

Oh─and hot sex, too, of course!

Farmer Selfie

If you build it…

When I bought the farm, I thought: “If you build it, he will come.” Like I was Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams, lol. I thought for sure I would be able to attract a higher caliber of man. What I really did was take the already difficult task of finding a suitable life-partner after 40 and make it damn near impossible for myself.

Men at this age want to be slowing down─they want a nest egg and toys, and they want to travel.

What they do NOT want, is some woman hell-bent on working in the dirt all day, with little respect for the almighty dollar and some irrational mission to “save the world” with bugs of all things.

If─by some slim chance─I find one who expresses interest in farming, more often than not he’s just bought or built his own homestead and he’s looking to bring a woman in, not move himself to a ready-made farm.

Or he has zero experience but has always dreamed of raising a few pigs!

Fucking pigs…

---

The Problem With Pigs

If you’ve heard this story before, feel free to jump ahead. If not, I promise this story bears relevance on the matter of my dating-life and why connecting with men has been so damned hard for yours truly…

While I love animals, no part of me ever wanted to raise pigs. They’re big and pushy and messy, and would just as soon eat you given half a chance. My last boyfriend had raised a couple of pigs once and had a good experience with it, so when the opportunity arose to trade space on the farm for a neighbor to raise a few pigs in exchange for his pick-up truck, I caved. I have a wicked truck fetish, lol.

Author photo: Old Steve Rogers with his pigs.

Old Steve Rogers tended the pigs that season and we played a supporting role, hosting these pigs on the farm. At the end of the season we gained a freezer full of pork and so did Steve. I was persuaded to try it a second year, offering shares to my CSA members. Except this time I was in charge of the pig-project and it didn’t go so well for me.

The care and feeding of the 6 pigs was a huge time-sink. I found I was very intimidated by the pigs, unable to handle them or get close to them. We were lacking the kind of set-up that might have allowed me to rotate them on pasture, and─while they had a large pen─I really don’t like caged animals, so it just didn’t feel good to me.

That season the price of grain increased drastically. To make matters worse, there was some confusion around the processing date and when the pigs went they were not nearly big enough. Lacking the experience, I didn’t charge enough, but then the cuts customers received were small because the pigs were small, so I didn’t charge any more either.

The pig project put the farm several thousand dollars in debt, and it’s been a hard scrabble to climb out of the hole ever since. Now, when a guy tells me he wants to raise pigs, he’s automatically out, lol.

---

Trust Can Only Be Grown Over Time

I’ve learned through trial and error that a new partner has to earn the privilege of weighing in when it comes to the farm. Trust can only be grown over time. Anyone who comes into my life has to be willing to spend time and do the work to build trust with me, because too many times before I’ve allowed the farm to be jeopardized by my relationships.

To be fair, these men have only ever tried to help, but without the education I’ve had they can’t hope to make informed decisions.

Too many times I’ve ignored that feeling of anxiety in the pit of my gut, when I knew I was allowing my partner to steer Runamuk in the wrong direction. Because I want to build a meaningful relationship, I’ll ignore my own instincts. And because I love so fully and completely, I’ll bite my tongue. Subdue myself. Hide the parts of me that might be too extreme.

It’s a torment to live that way, and I don’t want to do it anymore. That’s why I’m being extra careful who I choose to associate myself with this time around. At the same time, I also want to be more secure in my sense of self, so that when I finally find my Mr.Right, I won’t lose myself again.

For the Love of Myself

I’ve come to the realization that in buying the farm and committing myself to this journey of conservation, there’s a very good chance I’ve committed myself to spending the rest of my life alone. Trading one love for another─the love of a man for the love of this farm.

For the love of myself!

Yes. That is a baby sheep in the backseat of my car…

And, you know what…?

I’m really okay with that.

Through all of my life’s trials and tribulations, farming has always been there for me. When life gets hard, I work harder. Gardening and caring for livestock is good medicine, and the farm offers a channel for stress and depression. Turning anxiety into productivity yields direct results in the form of funds to further grease the proverbial wheels. When it comes to farming, money really does grow on trees.

Best of all, I can be myself on the farm─utterly and completely free to do and be whatever I like. It’s the one place in the whole world where what Sam says goes. 100%. I’m enjoying that freedom immensely and, while I might enjoy the odd night out, I’m not likely to give that up any time soon.

I call it my “Sparkle Time”, lol.

Sparkle Time

This chapter of my life is all about me─not in a selfish way─but in a loving and empowering way. It’s part of my commitment to cultivating my own authenticity. If you’re new here, I invite you to check out some of my earlier posts to learn more of my backstory and why authenticity is so difficult for me.

The long and short of it is, that I’d become accustomed to emotional and physical abuse during a traumatic childhood and 15-year marriage. Those experiences meant I was comfortable being bullied, manipulated and controlled. Unwittingly, I picked partners that perpetuated that existence until my counselor pointed out that it was a pattern of self-sabotage. After a painful breakup last March, I set out on a mission to embrace my own authenticity, ending that cycle of generational trauma.

It was just after New Year’s when I published 4 Ways to Practice Authenticity and decided my Word of the Year would be “Sparkle”. Since then, I’ve come to associate anything sparkly with authenticity, and the concept has morphed into “Sparkle Time”.

What is Sparkle Time?

Sparkle Time is ME-time. It’s giving myself permission to be the quirky, deeply feeling weirdo that I am. It’s doing things just for me. Cooking special meals─for me. Dressing cute─for me. Taking time to do things─not for the farm, but just for ME.

It’s also another name for authenticity. When I’m feeling most myself, aligned with the universal energies within me─with my purpose here on earth─I’m sparkling. When the perfect song comes on at the perfect time and I’m in my jam─I’m sparkling. Anything I do that reinforces my own sense of self is Sparkle Time.

I’ve found that I can even use the phrase to pull myself back, when my mind slips into old thought patterns. A reminder to stay in the present moment and not worry what anyone else thinks of me.

Retraining the Mind

I don’t know about you, but it never even occurred to me that I might have some control over my own mind. It’s not a course we can take in school, and certainly no one at home taught me. Living in survival mode the entirety of my life, you can imagine the sort of PTSD, anxiety and fear that consumed my untrained mind all these years.

Once I realized the brain is a muscle that can be strengthened like any other, I set about retraining my thought-processes. For a while, I saw a counselor and that helped to set me on a path of self-care. Mostly, though, I’ve used YouTube to watch self-help videos from psychiatrists like Doc Amen of Amen Clinics. His TedTalks about the brain fascinated me, but more importantly he offers strategies for retraining the mind.

Dr. Amen introduced me to the concept of ANTs (automatic negative thoughts) and the fact that not everything our brain tells us is true. In fact, if you allow it free reign, your brain becomes accustomed to coming up with every worst-case scenario under the sun and moon.

Those thought-processes are like the ruts in a muddy backwoods dirt-road, deeply entrenched from years of vehicles driving in the same rut. Once you slip into them, it takes a hard jerk and a steady hand at the wheel to correct course.

If you struggle at all with your mental health, you’ll know what a challenge it can be just to show up every day, let alone share your authentic self with the world. Through this concept of “Sparkle Time”, I’m retraining my mind, combating the “ants” that have run rampant for so long.

When we’re our most authentic selves, we give others permission to do the same. I’m confident that if I can do it, anyone can do it. Let’s band together to spread authenticity like wildfire and create an #authenticitymovement!!!

The Marriage Dilemma

Meanwhile…it wasn’t long after the break-up last year, when I ran into an acquaintance at the local grocery store. He was an older gentleman, the blue collar sort─one who has admired my ambitions over the years and always makes a point to tell me so.

I’d written briefly about the break-up on the Runamuk blog and he shook his head over it, saying, “You’ve got to have a man around!”

His words have stuck with me since then, coming back now and again to needle me.

Author photo: Baby lamb─just because, lol.

While there are exceptions to every rule and I’ve certainly encountered a handful of men who truly respect women as equals, treating me with respect, consideration and kindness, I’ve met many more who haven’t. It comes back to the audacity of authenticity and the fact that so many men seem to believe they’re superior to women.

My very first post here at substack: “The Audacity of Authenticity” was a response to a piece by lyz who writes Men Yell at Me. Lyz’s article was a rebuttal to the Washington Post’s position on the “marriage dilemma” facing America. Apparently, the divide between white liberal women and republican men has resulted in a decline in marriages here in the States.

In the post, I talk about how some men seem to believe their needs supersede that of their female counterparts. How, when challenged, a nasty side of them emerges and this out-dated mentality rears it’s ugly head. It’s this superiority complex that so many men are carrying around with them which rubs me the wrong way. In my opinion, it becomes their shield for laziness─and there are a lot of lazy men out there.

Oh-they may go to work─maybe they’re even fairly industrious and run their own business. But when it comes to the relationship with their woman, they drop the ball or miss the point entirely. Some put on a good show in the beginning, but after the initial woo-ing─once he’s got you─he gets comfortable. And lazy.

Whether it’s in regards to household chores, childcare, or maintaining the relationship, these men place the burden of responsibility on their lady. Then, when the novelty of his love wears off and the lady realizes she’s become little more than his domestic servant, he gets defensive, maybe even aggressive when she wants to improve the situation for both of them.

More often than not the woman capitulates. Perpetuating the cycle.

This is just my personal observation and experience thus far in my life. What say you, ladies? Would you say the men in your life have treated you fairly and respectfully more often than not? Do you think there’s a propensity toward this “superiority complex”? Leave a comment to weigh in.

Sparkle Like a Badass

Personally, I reject the notion that I need a man in my life.

Certainly I never intended to be a solo-farmer, but even when I had a man in my life, I’ve mostly farmed on my own. What’s more, every single one of those relationships imposed sanctions upon me that forced me to shrink myself, making me feel like I was alone anyway.

Besides that, look at what I’ve built in Runamuk. This wasn’t something I inherited. I didn’t win the house in my divorce─I didn’t even take child support in that deal! No, I grew my farm as a landless farmer until I could buy this property, and I’ve lived here on my own these past 6 years since. Once in a while, I admit, I have to call a male friend for a helping hand or a little more muscle, but those instances are rare. This farm is all me, baby!

So-no, I don’t need a man.

And if he’s going to treat me with any amount of disrespect I don’t want him anyway. I’ve worked too hard for what I have to tolerate that kind of bullshit. If that means I have to give up on the notion of ever having a man in my life─so be it.

This farm is such a blessing and I’m so deeply in love with my purpose─with my own existence─that I don’t even care anymore. I just want to sparkle like the badass lady-farmer that I am.

That’s what we all want, isn’t it, ladies? To sparkle in our own right?

I hope you make room for some Sparkle Time in your life this week. Much love to you and yours, my friends!

Your friendly neighborhood farmer,
Sam

Thank you for following along with the story of this lady-farmer! It is truly a privilege to live this life serving my family and community, and protecting wildlife through agricultural conservation. Check back soon for more updates from the farm, and be sure to follow @RunamukAcres on Instagram or Facebook!