The Emotional Side of Leaving Suburbia for Homesteading

Contrary to popular belief, human design is, in my opinion, like a beautifully orchestrated symphony. Our brains have developed a system—commonly known as fear—to protect us from potential dangers. Fear isn't always rooted in past experiences; it can also stem from your brain assessing the likelihood of survival in a new situation.

I share this because I’ve felt a significant amount of resistance toward moving to a remote location with my family of five, including a 3-month-old baby. Yet, I’ve learned in my nearly 30 years that the greatest joys often come from stepping into the unknown. Whether it was jumping off a 10-foot diving board despite being a weak swimmer or leaping from a 47-foot tower while trusting a thin rope to hold me, these experiences have taught me that growth often follows fear.

Leaving behind the convenience of Target runs and living just 20 minutes outside the city is a trade-off I’m willing to make for peace of mind and the chance to offer my children a better quality of life. I find myself swinging between excitement for this new chapter and grief for the memories tied to our suburban home. Downsizing from a 2,000-square-foot house to a 40-foot RV feels daunting. But it’s the fear of the unknown—of shifting routines and losing familiar comforts—that challenges me the most.

What helps calm my nerves is the vision of creating our own little piece of heaven. The thought of building a life on 40 acres, filled with nature’s simple joys, gives me the reassurance that we are on the right path. Knowing that I’m keeping a promise to myself and my family brings a sense of fulfillment.

To ease the transition, I’ve focused on meticulous planning. During a previous temporary move with my in-laws, I learned the hard way how disorganized storage can lead to unnecessary stress and waste. This time, I’m carefully curating a storage system to save time, avoid repurchasing items, and streamline the process when we move.

I’m thrilled at the prospect of turning our property into a sanctuary. I imagine myself reading in a swing chair, surrounded by the sounds of birdsong and wind, while my children laugh and play nearby. These moments of mental clarity and connection with nature are what my husband and I have longed for. Sharing this journey with our children, teaching them to operate a tractor and a skid steer, and watching them thrive in this unconventional lifestyle reinforces that we’re on the right path.

Homeschooling and building a homestead in what many might consider “the middle of nowhere” isn’t the societal norm in 2024, but it’s what aligns with our values. If you’re contemplating a similar journey, my advice is to be realistic and self-aware. Know your limitations and embrace the discomfort that often accompanies growth. True transformation happens when we step outside our comfort zones and explore the unknown.

Every time we break a promise to ourselves, we chip away at our self-confidence. Trust in oneself is built by following through on commitments, no matter how challenging. Pursuing your dreams can be terrifying, but what do you really have to lose? Does your comfort outweigh the potential for happiness and creating something life-changing for your family?

For me, the answer is clear. I want to live a life with as few regrets as possible, knowing that I embraced every opportunity for growth and adventure. If you’re an aspiring homesteader or a risk-taker, take the time to reflect on your “why.” Assess whether your current lifestyle is serving you and explore ways to improve. You might find that the path to fulfillment starts with a single, bold step into the unknown.