I am a farmer’s daughter, and some people think that makes me less. Less sophisticated. Less capable. Less ambitious. But let me tell you — being a farmer’s daughter doesn’t make me less of anything. In fact, it has made me more. More resilient. More grounded. More appreciative of the values that truly matter in life.
Growing up on a farm isn’t easy. It means early mornings and long days, working side by side with family to care for the land and the animals that depend on us. It means understanding the cycle of the seasons, learning to respect nature’s power, and facing challenges head-on — whether that’s a drought, a storm, or a tough harvest. From a young age, I learned that hard work isn’t optional; it’s essential. While some kids spent weekends sleeping in, I was out feeding livestock, mending fences, or helping bring in crops before the rain came.
And yet, there are people who hear where I come from and make assumptions. They think that because I grew up in boots instead of high heels, or because I can drive a tractor better than a sports car, I must not be as smart, as cultured, or as driven. They couldn’t be more wrong. What they don’t see is that a farm is a classroom — one of the best there is. I learned business from watching my parents manage the books and make tough decisions. I learned science from planting, breeding, and tending to animals. I learned responsibility and teamwork, because when you’re part of a farming family, everyone’s effort counts.
Being a farmer’s daughter means knowing what it’s like to struggle — and to overcome. It means finding beauty in simplicity: a sunrise over a field of wheat, the satisfaction of a hard day’s work done right, the quiet pride in knowing that what we do feeds and sustains others. It means understanding the value of community, because in rural life, neighbors look out for one another.
So no — being a farmer’s daughter doesn’t make me less. It makes me someone who knows how to work hard, dream big, and appreciate the little things that make life meaningful. It means I carry the lessons of my upbringing with me wherever I go — into school, into work, into relationships.
The next time someone hears where I come from and thinks it means I’m less, I’ll smile and let them think what they will. Because I know the truth: I am proud of my roots. I am proud of the dirt under my nails and the strength in my heart. I am a farmer’s daughter, and that makes me more than they could ever imagine.
