Agriculture is often romanticized as a life of rolling fields, rosy sunrises, and the satisfaction of hard work. And while there’s truth in that imagery, the reality is much messier—especially when you factor in the loneliness that often comes with life on the farm. When you’re standing outside in the dead of winter, bundled up in every layer you own, bracing against the wind that feels like it’s slicing through your bones, the isolation isn’t just a feeling—it’s a full-body experience.

Right now, we’re in that deep freeze, the kind of Wisconsin winter where the air is so cold it hurts to breathe, and the only sound outside is the crunch of snow underfoot. We’re waiting on the inevitable snowstorm, which means extra prep—stocking hay, filling water tanks, and making sure we’re ready for whatever Mother Nature decides to throw at us. But it’s not just the weather we’re thinking about—it’s the memories this season brings, especially the morning we had our first set of lamb twins in a windchill of negative 40 degrees.

Our Family’s Farming Story

Farming is a part of our lives, but it’s not our full-time job. My husband is a teacher and coaches in the winter, and I’m a mental health therapist. In between our work schedules, raising our boys, and everything else life throws at us, we run our little hobby farm. It’s something we love—something that connects us to the land, to our kids, and to each other—but it also adds another layer of chaos to an already full plate.

That chaos was on full display the morning my husband found our first set of lamb twins, born in the middle of a windchill that had dropped to a ridiculous negative 40 degrees. Thank goodness school was cancelled that day—at least it gave him extra time to take care of them before heading out to the barn. They needed extra checks to make sure they and their mama were okay, and we hovered, doing everything we could to keep them warm and thriving.

I can still picture my husband walking in, shaking off the cold, and saying, “Well, we’ve got twins.” No fanfare, no dramatics—just another morning before work. Of course, I threw on my layers and hustled outside because, despite the brutal cold and the reality that he would be home with the boys, and I had a full day of clients ahead, seeing those first sweet little lambs are the moments that make it all worth it.

Finding Joy in the Chaos

There’s something about farming that forces you to find joy in the absurd. Like when you’re standing in a drafty barn at 3 a.m., watching the steam rise off a newborn lamb, realizing you haven’t felt your toes in an hour. Or when your coffee freezes in the cup, you left in the truck overnight. Or when you take a deep breath and your nose hairs freeze instantly. It’s miserable, but it’s also… kind of funny?

Our boys, of course, think all of this is the best adventure ever. They’re at that age where running through snowdrifts and checking on the animals is still magical. They don’t see the exhaustion, the constant worry about whether the heat lamps will hold or if the pipes will freeze. They just see the excitement of new lambs, the pride in helping bottle-feed, the reward of a warm cup of hot chocolate after chores are done.

My parents remind us often that farming has always been about resilience and finding beauty in the little things. They’ve weathered their fair share of brutal winters, each one bringing a fresh set of challenges. Knowing they’re right next door if we need backup is a comfort not all farming families have. It’s a reminder that we’re not doing this alone, even when it feels like it.

Embracing the Unique Joys of Farming

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that not everyone will understand our way of life. And that’s okay. Farming is a unique blend of challenges and rewards that can be difficult to explain. Not everyone understands why we willingly step outside before dawn in subzero temperatures, spend nights in the barn instead of our warm beds, or put so much of ourselves into this work.

But they don’t need to understand. When we watch our boys light up with excitement over lambing season, when they run ahead to check the pens, and when they proudly show off their lambs at the county fair, it all makes sense. This isn’t just about chores or early mornings—it’s about the values we’re instilling in them, the memories we’re creating, and the legacy we’re building together.

Practical Tips for Coping with Loneliness in Farming

If loneliness is weighing on you, here are a few things that have helped us through the toughest seasons:

• Lean on Your Support System: Whether it’s family, neighbours, or friends, don’t hesitate to ask for help. 
• Find the Humor: When you’re chipping ice off water buckets with a hammer or realizing you’ve been talking to a sheep for ten minutes, sometimes you just have to laugh.
• Celebrate Together: Mark the small wins—whether it’s a healthy lamb, a warm meal after chores, or simply making it through another storm without frozen pipes.
• Connect with Other Farmers: Finding community matters. Whether it’s through online groups, local meetings, or a quick phone call, talking to someone who gets it makes all the difference.
• Don’t Be Afraid to Ask for Help: If the loneliness or stress feels overwhelming, reach out to someone—a friend, a family member, a mental health professional. There’s no shame in needing support.

Leaning Into Resilience

Wisconsin winters are brutal. There’s no sugarcoating that. But if they’ve taught me anything, it’s that resilience isn’t about pretending everything is fine. It’s about finding ways to cope when things aren’t fine. It’s about leaning on each other, embracing the chaos, and remembering that no season—no matter how long or cold—lasts forever.

If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of loneliness, know this: You’re not alone. There are people who care, who understand, and who want to support you. Reach out. Share your story. Let’s remind each other that, even on the longest, coldest nights, we’re stronger together.

Written by: 
Alyssa L. Zube LCSW, MSW
Licensed Clinical Social Worker [Wisconsin and Minnesota]

Alyssa Zube is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker providing therapy virtually in Wisconsin and Minnesota for individuals facing challenges related to anxiety, depression, perinatal and postpartum wellness, and life changes.  Alyssa and her family run Riverside Ranch which is nestled among the bluffs along the Mississippi River in Southwest Wisconsin. Her family raises registered Shropshire Sheep and club lambs.

Follow Alyssa on Facebook: Ridge + Valley Counseling: https://www.facebook.com/randvcounseling
Website: https://ridgeandvalleycounselinginc.com/
Riverside Ranch [Registered Shropshire Flock]: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61557008347092