There’s no magic pill for being lost.
When I was in the mental ward, it was mostly girls in their teens with messed up track records and eating disorders. But my roommate was from Kellogg, a top-ten business school.
I thought it was insane that she was there. She was so smart. She was going to be great at work. Her only problem was that her fiancé had just broken off their engagement. I thought she would be fine—there are so many other men to be had. But before I could ask her to explain, she tried to electrocute herself in the bathtub, with a blow-drier, and she was moved to the high-security ward.
That has been on my mind as my relationship with the farmer has unraveled.
Which makes me want to sleep.
I kiss my sons good night and then walk through a kitchen full of dirty dishes to my bedroom, thinking going to bed would be a good way to escape. But I can’t sleep. Probably because I used that trick earlier, when I came home from work and slept for a couple of hours before I took my son to cello.
I was not sad while I slept. But I was sad at cello.
Even since our first date, the farmer has said that he does not want to date me, but he does it anyway. Over eighteen months, we pretend things have changed, but really, here’s where we are:
The farmer owns about 100 acres on his own. He farms with his parents by putting his 100 acres with their 500 acres.
His parents have said that he will inherit the whole farm so he can keep farming the way he has, on 600 acres, for the last 20 years.
They do not want to guarantee that the farmer inherits the land. They say maybe they will give the farmer a guaranteed inheritance after they see if they like farming with him when he lives with me. They want to wait to see if I make their life hell.
I finally fall asleep and wake up to my seven-year-old saying, “Can you wake up? Is it morning? Can you ask [the farmer] if we can also have sheep when we move to the farm?”
“It’s not morning yet,” is what I tell him.
“Then can I sleep with you? And where is [the farmer]?”
“He’s not here.”
This is what I say. I’m not sure how long I can say it with any credibility. But luckily it’s the middle of the night, and my son is consumed with the idea of doing animal chores every morning with the farmer. My son has plans.
I lay in bed between my sons who realize something is wrong because ever since the farmer came into our lives, I’ve guarded my bed from them relentlessly, but tonight I let them in.
In bed I think about the farmer’s lawyer, who says depending on farming land that the parents control is a totally insecure way to live. Our days with the lawyer are over, though. It cost the farmer $5000 and he has, literally, nothing to show for it. Only discussions with the lawyer about how the farmer has to leave his farm.
I lay in bed staring at the dark ceiling. The boys breathe heavy and warm in my ears and tears drip down my cheeks and when they pool in my ears they are cold. I tell myself over and over again that the farmer does not want to farm on his own land without farming with his parents. I have to accept this.
He asked me to move to his farm, with my kids, living alongside the risk that his parents will tell him that they hate me so much that he either has to get rid of me or stop farming with them.
So I won’t move there. Because I think that if the parents, down the line, hate me enough to force the farmer to choose me or the farm, he’ll choose the farm. So I figure he should just make that choice now, before I move to Darlington, WI with my kids.
And he’s picking the farm.
Did you see the movie Monsters vs Aliens? The girl who turns into a monster breaks off her engagement because her fiancé is a jerk. I wish I could become a monster. I wish I thought the farmer was a jerk. I wish this were a movie, and my kids scratched the disc, so we’d have to stop watching, because the end of this is too scary.
The next morning, I wake up at 5am because I’ve been waking up on farmer time for so long. I sulk for an hour and then the kids wake up. I make lunches, make breakfast, make beds, make jokes (the knock-knock kind) and the kids are happy, and it makes me feel like I’m doing something right.
I went to the book fair at the school the night before. We take out one of our new books and I think maybe the kids are having a charmed life and I am overestimating the impact of farmer abandonment.
Then my four-year-old says, “Mom. Look!” and he shows me an eraser in the shape of an ice cream cone.
“Did you take that from the book fair?”
“Yes. Aren’t I sneaky?”
“No. It’s stealing. I told you we’re only buying books. That means you can’t take anything else.”
We talk about stealing. My seven-year-old asks with eyes full of glee if his brother will be going to jail.
We finish breakfast and I tell myself not to think about the farmer. I tell myself to focus on making the returning of the eraser a good lesson about fairness.
I would like the farmer to sell his 100 acres to his parents, who are willing to pay cash for market price, and then buy a farm somewhere else, so that we start fresh, together. I told him I’d move anywhere in the world that he wants.
He wants to stay right there. With his parents.
In the car, on the way to school, I tell myself it’s hard to be sad over losing someone who is choosing to farm with his parents over starting a life with me. But I’m distraught over telling my kids that the guy they have completely bonded with is going to disappear.
Proving that kids know everything, even stuff they don’t understand, my seven-year-old catches me off guard with his backseat chatter: “Who is coming to your birthday party next week?”
My four-year-old chimes in with a list of his own friends.
I say, “You two are my best friends. So I think it’ll be a party with us.”
The seven-year-old says, “What about [the farmer]? You love him, too, and he loves you.”
I turn the music up too loud.
I need to find some child psychologist to tell me how to tell the kids what happened to the farmer. So when they clamor for the Beatles I put on Ob La Di, Ob La Da, and the kids sing out loud. When I have been pretending that things are fine with the farmer, Ob la di seemed like Paul McCartney’s sunny summary of marriage and kids. Now the song feels like John Lennon’s ironic jab at the morons who think marriage ever works out to be happy.
I drop the kids off. Psychology Today says that depression is contagious and you usually get it from your mom, so I try to be extra chirpy during drop off. Except when we are returning the eraser.
I only go into my office when I have to, and today I have to because we are having an all-day meeting with the CEO who has flown in from DC.
We are talking strategy and he says that startups are always changing. The strategy changes, the tactics change. He says it has happened at every startup he’s ever had.
I console myself that he’s had two, huge exits. I hope that the rule of past performance predicting future performance will skew more toward his former exits than mine.
I try to focus. I wonder if they can tell when I am thinking about the farmer and when I am thinking about the company. Sometimes, when I think I cannot get myself back to thinking about the company, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I try to say smart things every now and then. I want them to think I’m smart.
I hope I am an exception to the rule. For broken engagements. For single parenting. For startup exits.
But I know that none of us is an exception to a rule. We are just regular. And another rule is that we are all lost sometimes, and being lost is okay. I am lost right now. I don’t know what is happening in my life, and I am scared to think of any of the reasonable outcomes.
But I actually know a bit about being lost. I’ve been through it before. I have been jobless, and I’ve figured out what’s next. I’ve hated my career, and I figured out how to switch. I’ve been dumped many times by many men, and I’ve always thought no one would ever love me, and I always fall in love again.
But there’s no magic solution. Being lost cannot be avoided. The best thing to do is to try to focus on something else. I know from past experience what works: Reading, writing, cuddling with the kids, dating men who write good emails, and cooking recipes that call for lots of sprinkles.
First, you are a very strong woman and I know that you will make it through like you’ve done so many times before in so many areas of your life. I really admire you for doing so well in so many areas of your life after everything you have been through. It is inspiring.
Secondly, if The Farmer is being this wishy-washy about committing to your relationship before he has truly committed to your relationship, it is time of him to pack his things and move back to the farm for good. I am certain that you love him and that you are attached to him, however, he will continue to fail to commit even after marriage. Except, if you marry him, the consequences will be far greater for you and your children and the pain much harder to endure for all three of you.
Thirdly, I would recommend simply telling your children the truth about your breakup. As much as we all want to do as little as possible to hurt our children, they will admire you for your honestly even if they are upset at first. Seeing you handle this difficult situation honestly and as gracefully will set a positive example whereas just not telling them will leave them confused and wondering what they have done to upset you. Children have a unique ability to relate any negative situation to their own behavior.
And lastly, I’m going to give you an e-hug because breakups really suck no matter how many you endure in your lifetime. ((hug))
My heart goes out to you and your children.
The farmer is in an untenable situation of his own choosing. He has made his choice.
Stay true to your own decision for what is best for you and your family. It is easier said than done, but you have great courage.
I think you should not take any of this advice.
Why doesn’t the pig farmer make comments here on your blog?
Sad for you in your pain, Penelope. Before you and the farmer call it quits, though, is there any chance at all that you can work through this in couples’ counseling? Nothing against the 5K spent on a lawyer, but that only addresses the legal issues, not the issues that are in both your hearts that make the decision to stay together, or not.
A good therapist should be able to help you and the farmer navigate that territory, so in the end you are both clear where you are at, and why the decisions you are making have resulted in the outcome you arrive at.
In my opinion, it would say more about the farmer that he’s willing to spend 5K on lawyers, and not be willing to spend the same amount on a therapist to work this out to a hopefully happier outcome
Thinking good thoughts for you, the farmer, and your kids in all this struggle.
A friend of mine, who is bi-polar, got a book about marriage and discussed it with me. The book said that marriage destroys relationships. I was very upset about this. My grandparents were married for 56 years. I see in papers where people celebrate 50+ years of marriage and think how much they must love and care for each other to put up with themselves for so long.
I have been divorced three times, so I may not be the best judge, but I believe that a happy marriage comes from two people putting themselves above all others, including their own kids. Children will try to tear a marriage apart, then, they move out.
Anyway, I think you want what I want, and what most people want, or need, out of a marriage. Commitment. It’s got to be “we two against the world” or it will not work. In my opinion, he wouldn’t give you that. So, It wouldn’t have lasted. Eventually, he would put more and more things before you. The farm. Parents. His truck, who knows.
I hate that you are hurting. Good luck with healing.
jb
Boy, that’s hard. Knowing what needs to happen and not wanting it to be true. It’s way easier when they’re jerks, but when they are just normal human beings who make different choices than you would like them to… that’s hard.
I hope you and the kids are ok.
Sigh …. This all sounds so familiar.
I grew up in small town California with folks who were multi-generational farmers and ranchers. For those folks family, business and identity were all tied together in a Gordian knot, impossible to untie. For those families marriages weren’t (ever) Hollywood style love matches involving two star-crossed lovers. They involved marrying the family, marrying the land and marrying a lifestyle. Constancy, loyalty and self-sacrifice were the price of entry and putting aside your family for theres was a very real barrier to entry. Outsiders were distrusted, not with enmity but they were held suspect, likely to be “flighty” – and it could take 30 years to no longer be an outsider.
Unlike many above I don’t thing the farmer is wishy-washy. I think he’s processing things by his own set of values and that there were no painless choices in front of him.
Perhaps the family, and to some extent your farmer, are measuring you by that generational scale? Perhaps it’s not really about the land to them but about your ability to submerge your identity with his and take up their values? Perhaps the real question in their minds is to see if you have the staying power to not just marry a farmer but to BE a farmer?
And these really are good questions – the life they live isn’t for everyone. The daily compromises and sacrifices are difficult and for most of us the price would be too high.
In the end, despite all it’s attractions, it wasn’t for me.
Good luck and metaphorical hugs. This feels like a crossroads is so many, many ways. I can’t possibly guess what road you will choose.
I am so sorry to hear this. I obviously don’t know you, but I wanted happiness for you and your kids, and sort of hoped the farmer might bring some to your life.
I did, however, think it was very very unfortunate that he would allow his family to disparage you more than once. This is the sort of thing that shows the true nature of a person, and unfortunately it seems he does not stand up for those he cares for, even if it means doing so to others he cares for. For this reason it does not surprise me that he made the wrong decision when it came down to farm vs. family.
As far as the comments above regarding the majesty of farmers and land and all that glorification, I will say I come from a dairy farming family. My grandfather gave up his religion to marry my grandmother, converting to hers, and when, after many years, he got sick, he sold the cows to ensure his family’s future, as well. Neither of these were in any way small decisions. (She made sacrifices, too – she always liked to say that he became Catholic for her, and she became Republican for him.) :) My point is, home is where the people you love are, whether you farm, or whether you do anything else. The choices are not easy, but they are clear. He is not good enough for you.
You’re doing the right thing, and all best to you while you get through the hard part.
Everything will be okay in the end. If it is not okay, it is not the end.
Penelope, I come from generations and generations of farmers, and I understand that point of view all too well. I am also married into an intensely controlling, manipulative family which has given me other, less wholesome insights. The thing that has niggled at me isn’t so much the farm-crossed lovers story, but the episode where he played you the message from his sister. Why do that?
I am new to your blog, but it is already valuable to me as are you through it. This was sad to read, but I am glad you know what to do to take care of yourself. I hope next week is better for you and your little ones.
Hug. I’m lost too, I’m also in a similar situation. I hope that you find peace and wisdom from this heart wrenching experience. Although it hurts, thank you for being honest with yourself and your children.
I appreciate your work Penelope and who you are.
Your post was heartbreaking. Wish I had something beautiful and insightful to say. So much has been covered by others. So instead will bake red velvet cupcakes, frost with cream cheese and send good karma when I put the red sprinkles on top. Hugs to you and the boys.
What a shame.
But it could be worse. He might have given up this part of his soul for you. And, inevitably, become a different person. Whom you might not care for.
And you might not have all these friends rooting for you. (Myself included, if that’s not clear.)
Good luck.
I don’t understand why you can’t just live on the farm. Why does it matter whether he is guaranteed to inherit the his parent’s land. Why not try to win over the family by being nice to them. Why not be respectful of them and accept them for who they are. You are sabotaging this relationship because deep down you don’t think you deserve to be happy.
Based on this account, Penelope seems to be the one with the least ability to make anything change–not because she might not be willing to try, but because (a) the parents are the ones with power and issuing what sounds suspiciously like an ultimatum, and (b) the farmer is the one who has to decide how to respond to that.
why make him choose – why won’t you choose to go … if you’d go anywhere in the world why not go there … parents are always parents … don’t let them be the obstacle if the farmer is the one for you now … go with the here and now – after all it is all we really have … no dress rehersal and all – be brave P and let your optimistic side soar – best le
ps I still wish it was a simplier situation for you … but i don’t think you really do simple …
Penelope, I think almost anyone over the age of thirty-something has run into this problem. You are not alone and there is no right answer. Parents are parents and his sound like a trip and a half. Go and live with him, if he is the one, and you seem to think he is, then it will work out in the end. He will see, or come to see, what a wonderful woman you are and how wonderful your children are. If he is not the one and it doesn’t work out, then you have lost only time, learned a lesson, and will move on with your life.
Personally, i like the idea of selling to his parents and buying a place for the two of you to start afresh.
Good Luck!
I am sorry to hear that it didn’t work out. However, you really do deserve to be with someone who can’t imagine not choosing you and I really think you’ll find it. I hope you feel better soon!
I have always drawn comfort from Grooks by Piet Hein, and here’s one of my favorites:
T. T. T.
Put up in a place
where it’s easy to see
the cryptic admonishment
T. T. T.
When you feel how depressingly
slowly you climb,
it’s well to remember that
Things Take Time.
I’m sorry you’re going through this sadness. Take the time to grieve over the loss. Wishing you all the best.
I suspect that you already know the answer, but first rule is yourself and the kids. The farmer and his parents are the uncontrollable element and in their eyes you are the disposable element. So protect your interests and move on. You have the strength of character to survive and prosper. My mothers side of the family are farmers and I know the binds of land and family. The disputes and the fallouts. Farmers tend to marry for a benefit to the business, whether is is land or personal acumin. Love is normally a secondary consideration.
Oh Penelope, this breaks my heart to read. I was really cheering for your happiness with the farmer. It is so sad and frustrating when things don’t work out because of circumstances, and not because someone was a jerk. Thanks for sharing this. I bet you people will say this has nothing to do with career advice, except all of us have been lost or sad before, and this lets us know we aren’t the only ones, and that we don’t have to do this alone, and that things WILL get better.
P:
I think the most bittersweet part of this is that circumstance is driving the decisions. I think many of us have been in that situation, and of course myself included. I have a whole family full of farmers–thousands of acres that mean more to them than anything else–someone else commented about how they pour their blood, sweat and tears into the land–and they certainly do, and their tie to the land is hard to describe and impossible, I think, to understand unless you are raised working the land. I know that none of my cousins, aunts or uncles would move–the land is like their child, and leaving it would be abandonment. However, this doesn’t make it any easier for you–I don’t know if any explanation makes it easier for you, but I do hope that in time, your pain will lessen–maybe it lessens by him realizing what a tool he is being or maybe it lessens by your moving on. Your kids have loss as well, and I am sure you’ll give them the love and support they’ll need to mend. You have a lot of support out here, and I’m hopeful you’ll reach out to those you trust rather than dwelling in loneliness.
Hi–I won't offer any advice because, frankly, taking romantic advice from me would be a lot like taking business ethics advice from Bernie Madoff. You’ve gotten some really good comments in this string, and I suspect that just knowing that random people would think enough to offer sound counsel must in and of itself provide some comfort.
But I do have a request: Write this story. You're a very compelling writer, and this is a very compelling story. And the beauty of it is, Act III hasn't been written yet. Acts I and II are already done, but I'm just wondering if there is any therapeutic value in crafting Act III to turn out however you want it to. Is it the sappy "happily ever after" ending? The "I will survive" ending? It's up to you.
How about the impossibly ironic ending: Flash forward 15 years. One of your sons is going to school at the U.W. in Platteville. He falls in love with a classmate. She's from around there somewhere. Then it turns out – OMG – that the girlfriend is the daughter of one of the sisters!! Hilarity ensues at THAT Thanksgiving dinner –
Just trying to occupy your mind – sorry!
Penelope,
I’m sorry for your heartache, thank you for sharing it with us. I’m 27 years old and I’m currently watching my own family dynamics change because my father decided to cut the strings with my grandmother in a situation very similar to this one. My great-grandmother, my grandmother, and my father all own homes on the same tract of land, about 30 acres in total. When my great-grandmother passed, my grandmother bought her house and the 5 acres it is on. My dad grew up on that land, has worked it, and still continues to work it. When my husband and I offered to buy my great-grandmothers house and continue the family legacy (as well as help my aging father with physical chores), my grandmother said no. She doesn’t want us to have it. She doesn’t want my dad to have it. She wants to keep it as a part of her estate to be divided fairly between my father and his brother. The house has sat empty for 3 years, falling slowly into disrepair. She’s so obsessed with what is ‘fair’ between her sons (my uncle lives full time in the out of the country, mind you) that she’s playing dictator with our lives. She’s betting that my dad loves his house and land so much that he won’t leave. She’s betting that he’ll continue to take care of her land and her home out of a sense of duty. He’s so devastated that she won’t let us buy the house (at fair market value) that he’s decided to leave after 55 years dedicated to his home. He is up and leaving his father’s land so that he can have the life he wants with his children and grandchildren, rather than be disappointed and manipulated by his mother, who claims her actions are out of love, but continues to break his heart. She’d rather let the house sit empty than sell it to her own grandchildren (or anyone for that matter) because “she knows whats right”. Her righteous attitude has cost her dearly as far as my dad is concerned. He no longer is blindly dedicated. There are of course many more layers of family dynamics and back history well before this event, but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Basically what I am trying to say to you is that the farmer should want to be happy. He should want to be a part of a team with you. You were right when you said that he could start his own legacy somewhere fresh. He’s using it as an excuse not to man-up and call his parent’s bluff. If he loved farming so much, he’d do it anywhere, not just where he’s always known. He’s being played like a pawn in family politics and he’s not been pushed far enough to break. Unfortunately, he doesn’t see being in a team with you, facing whatever comes your way, as reward enough to start his own life. You know what’s on the line when you start a new business. You’ve had several fail. Maybe that’s why its not hard for you to imagine leaving something secure for something that might fail, because you’ve faced that demon a long time ago, and don’t fear it any longer.
One day he will wake up and realize that his parents’ love is conditional. He will realize that as long as he plays the good son, he will be placated and patted on the head like a good boy. I hope you take what you’ve seen happen between the farmer and his parents and apply it to your own sons. Can you imagine playing with your sons’ hearts? Giving them conditions for love and respect? Let my dad serve as a lesson that it can and could be done. He’s packing up and moving away in order to be able to look himself in the mirror and know that he’s followed his own conscious. He and my grandmother might never reconcile properly, and he has to go to sleep at night knowing it, but he told me that he’d rather go to sleep in a bed that he made, rather than in one that was made for him.
Penelope,
I’ve been reading your posts for a few years now and just wanted to commend you for having the courage to post so much about your life. I for one can’t thank you enough for showing me that no matter how I feel that I’m not the only one out there who sometimes feels and thinks the same way you do. Life is a journey, and to know in some weird way you’ve got company on your travels when you’re lost is priceless. Thank you for that!
I’m so sorry. I think you’re right that he needs to make that call now, rather than after you’re married. But it’s still an awful position for you to be in, and I know that recognizing that intellectual truth doesn’t make it hurt less.
And going way back to the first poster, you deserve–as we all do–to be with someone who wants to be with you, as you are.
Thanks for reminding us all that it all comes down to taking care of our kids and for ALSO reminding us that we can’t keep all pain from them. An earlier poster said that they’ll be alright – they really just need to know you’re not going anywhere. I agree. They will be ok – it will hurt – but you are doing the right thing by taking care of yourself so that you can also take care of them. Keep putting that oxygen mask on your own face first so that you can keep being the great mom you are, even through the pain. Hang in there girl. Lost sucks and it’s scary – but I know you’re on the path, even if you can’t see it right now.
Why all the anger toward ‘the farmer’?
Is it really so shocking that such a wide divide in personal values can’t be crossed?
Pen –
My heart aches for you and I want to find The Farmer and shake him. He can buy more land but he can’t buy love. You have given yours unconditionally but it’s not enough from him. May your heart heal quickly.
Words and thoughts are swirling around in my brain as to what to say. Speaking honestly, I would encourage you to seek a relationship with something higher than yourself. I mean that with the most humble of intentions since I am a great admirer of your incredible self-reliance. I also admire and find myself somewhat jealous of your total honesty and openness. Please don’t let situations like this change that quality. It makes your blog the best I read, maddening as it might be when I disagree with you. Ss for the farmer, you have compromised enopugh. He must take some steps forward as well. Good luck.
Well, are any of us really surprised.. When someone breaks up with you over and over again he’s got way to many issues. Red flags everywhere girlfriend.
Everything will be OK.
Don’t you think you and your children deserve more than this? Answer: You do. Hold out for more. You gotta kiss a lot of toads, P.
First let me say that I love that you are commenting on the comments. It has me reading through them all and you have fabulous followers who I learn a lot from.
When I was 22 and bartending my way through engineering school I fell in love with a 35 year old stockbroker. We were together 3 years and unbelievably happy with the small exception being that he was never ‘proud’ of me. Do you know that song “Keep it down now, voices carry”, that sums up our relationship (he wants me, for only part of the time, he wants me, if he can keep me in line..). His parents were rich, influential and none too pleased that he was with rif-raf like me who, gasp, put herself through a local university and had divorced parents. We’d be fine and then a holiday, school reunion or something like that would hit and it would become clear that our lives had never integrated. He left me. I cried for about a year. Revenge dated for a time after that and then fortunately met a wonderful man. We’re married for 10 years now with 2 kids. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still think about the stockbroker.
I talked to him a year or so ago. He was now pushing 50 and never married or had kids. I wasn’t at all surprised. He was already married to his parents and the life of being a bachelor. Now when I hear a man is 40 and never married I know there is something seriously wrong with them. Stereotyping yes, but usually true.
Good luck getting through this. It’s like a death, give yourself plenty of time to mourn. I’m sure it beats the slow death of you and his parents driving each other crazy.
Oh, and my suggestion for the kids….diversion. Enroll in some new sport that gives them something new to focus on!
I’m so sorry to hear this, Penelope. I think you are definitely making the right choice for you and your boys by not moving there and making the farmer choose now. You deserve someone that chooses you and your boys. You’re such an incredible person. I hope you see how amazing you are and what a wonderful mother you are. I know you will find someone in the future who chooses you.
Penelope,
You obviously have such a strong following and they all offer great life changing and inspiring advice. I have none of that.
All I know is chocolate heals all.
Penelope – I have never posted but this one made me want to…..I have a similar story. I used to work for a major corporation in a big fancy engineering mgmt job in MSP and gave it all up to move to podunk North Dakota just to marry a farmer. I can understand all the chaos with the farm and estate planning and trying to ensure some what of a secure future. My farmer just went through it with his family. His parents and ethics must be vastly different, however. The land was set up so that it will all go to my husband (legally) in the event that they pass on and not divided between his siblings and him. There is a clause that basically says…should my farmer die before them and I do not produce an heir, the land is given to my famer’s sisters and not to me (I would only get what my farmer owns already). I think this was a turning point for the family in realizing that I wasn’t out for the money in the farm and that it was truly about love for my farmer husband and what worked best for us. My farmer and I together have gone through me losing a job, commuting 90 miles each way just to work and maintain a career, and through many other life struggles….and I think I am starting to wear on his family and they realize I am not out for the money and selling off their livlihood! It sucks, but when I had to decide if it was life with or without him, I decided to me it was worth the risks!
I’m guessing the family farm is owned free and clear. 500 acres of good Wisconsin farmland would be worth somewhere around $1.8 million. If that’s the bulk of his net worth, not many could walk away from it. The parents probably also own the house and the machinery. Unless there’s another pot of gold sitting around, the cash from his 100 acres would maybe cover a down payment on another viable farm, but would also leave him saddled with debt. It’s tough to start over at 40+. PT’s ultimatum is understandable, but so is his answer.
Penelope. What I love about you and your blog is that you write. Honestly and unflinchingly. In a world that insists we be brief and include lots of pictures and video, you write your heart out. And all of these people not only read it, they connect with it on the deepest emotional level. Thank you. And please don’t stop.
[apologies in advance if my comment seems repetitive; i did not read all 200+ comments]
P, there are two things i know about you:
2. you are an innovative problem-solver.
1. you love this man deeply.
so, my question is: what are you doing to fight for this man? i say “fight,” but i don’t mean by alienating or embarrassing him and his family. What have you done to show his family the depth of your love for the farmer? i know that their behavior is unreasonable and hurtful. ignorant, too. forget all of that. the only thing that matters is the farmer. so, surrender yourself to humility if you have not, and make a sincere, heartfelt plea to his family. let them see the rawest emotion in your eyes. ask them what you can do to help grow and nurture bonds of love and loyalty between you and them. throw yourself at their feet. not so much with dramatics, but unedited sincerity.
or if groveling isn’t your thing – make a simple and sincere statement to them, acknowledging your understanding of the rift, your feelings for the farmer, and how hard you intend to work – by his side – to heal the wound.
have you considered inviting his parents and/or immediate family to participate in bi-weekly or monthly “team-building” activities?
have you tried any crazy [shouting from rooftops, not gun wielding] acts of desperation?! don’t give up! you are much too determined to mope for long. you have to fight for him the way you fight for your company. if you can manage to convince investors to dump ass loads of money on your start-up, you can convince the farmer’s family to give you a fair shake at loving their son for the rest of his life.
go make yourself a g.d. bagel; it’s time to transition.
xo
Here here, KristinCanWrite! I especially appreciate the bagel comment. And you remind me of this: we don’t have to take things so g.d. seriously! Find the humor, and go get what you want.
This is rough. Love is so hard, but your clear writing is very gripping.
It is terrible for the farmer that his parents don’t seem to trust him. At a certain point, parents need to take their hands off and trust that they raised their children right. Narcissistic love from parents can be very damaging. He may find that this lack of trust leads to him getting the short end of the farm stick.
Just adding another supportive comment to the mix.
I’d missed this post over the weekend because I had some stuff going on. Then I got an e-mail from my best friend notifying me how sad she was after reading this post.
We feel like we know you. I too cried this weekend about something else, and the tears were cold in my ears. I love that you included that detail.
No advice from me, because I have no clue. Just a hug.
-AJ
I feel so sad for you Penelope. Maybe the farmer’s parents need some compassion and the farmer needs a backbone.
But you probably need to be blanketed in some love from your own friends right now. I hope it works out for you. You and your boys will get through this time, although it may be hard to see that right now.
I’m sorry you’re going through this pain…I can empathize. I was on the other side of a choice many years ago. I still feel twinges of the pain, even today. I wish for your heart to be soothed.
Dear Penelope,
As mentioned via my Twitter DM, you were the first blog I ever started reading. I bought your book, took the leap, and left my corporate management consulting job. I had been unhappy and stressed for two years. I now work at a cosmetics company, and I have started my own blog. Life is just so much better.
For those of us that have been following your blog for years now, we feel like we know you. Strange, how the internet does that.
The heartfelt sympathy expressed by those above will probably do little to heal your wounds, but the stories shared will perhaps help you feel less alone.
My thoughts are with you.
Poppy xox
Hey Penelope, you brought a tear to my eyes with this one. My family and I are sending you hugs for you and your kids.
Wishing you only the best.
I’m so sorry for you and your boys, that is utterly disappointing. We’re all here rooting for you, in the long run of this story, not just this one chapter. Hugs. Well, maybe not hugs, because I can’t remember if people with Asperger’s like them.
Penelope,
I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that you’re not taking the lame “deal” being offered to you. It’s VERY hard to ask someone who we want to love us, to actually stand up and “choose” us. You did that and it’s awesome.
We’ve all seen you grow a lot on this blog over the years. I know you’re hurting. But the way you finished this blog is absolutely correct. You will find love again. Follow the path that gets you out of the pain…time with the kids and lots of desserts ;-)
When you find someone who chooses you over all else, this will be a distant post that you link to as an example of never settling.
Hang in there, girl. We’re all hanging with you.
Thanks so much for this post. I was dumped by my live-in boyfriend shortly after he said he wanted to get married at Yosemite. I started grad school and ‘celebrated’ a birthday days after we broke up, and have spent the past two months trying to excel, but really just holding on and getting by. He definitely was not ready to be an independent adult, and much of his finances are tied up with his family. He also cheated on me. I am gutted by the whole situation and all this Tiger Woods crap unfortunately reminds me of my ex.
The best remedy for me? Cutting off all communication with him. And reading articles like this in your blog. Thank you so much.
Poor P! Only way to take this is one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. Next week you’ll feel a bit better, the week after that, a bit better, etc. etc. Hang in there, and let time heal (I’ve recently done a “soul-mate” breakup too… now on Month 4. We’ll get better).
Instead of couples-counselling, how about you get some counselling for yourself? The best it’ll do is to grow your self-awareness. Hopefully we can learn from each breakup.
My red flag moment with the farmer was when he didn’t want to hold hands with you at the fair, for fear of looking “pussy-whipped.” I think if it were me I would’ve dropped him right then and there! You deserve somebody who is proud to be seen holding hands with you (as we all do).
I also recall several blogs where you say that you found so much peace and pleasure being on the farm. Not to question your feelings for him, but… if he weren’t a farmer, if he was, say, a mailman or restaurant manager or whatever else, who lived in town, would you still feel so strongly about him? Do you think him having a farm may have pushed you closer to him?
With the recession and cheaper land prices, have you thought about purchasing an acre or two outside of the city, where you could create your own peaceful oasis for you and your kids? Just wondering– I want to be able to offer up some solutions here!
Peace to you, and keep please keep blogging!
Seriously? They were going to withhold his inheritence if you made their lives hell? Dude, they’d be DEAD. That’s some massive spite, there. Why not just put a hair in your toothbrush or something? Is it really neccessary to reserve the right to strike at you From Beyond?
You can’t put people like that near your kids. Forget you. (No offense, but you’re a big girl). These people can’t be around your boys.
You do write so beautifully. It will get better.
I’ve read most of the posts so far and most are positive toward you but I found a few that should be put in the round file. Like the one who said you should give up what you want just to be with him. Are some of these people on crack? This is the 21st century. I know it’s hard to move on. I’m close to your age and I’ve done this dance many times. I have a strong personality and a lot of men can’t deal and maybe it’s because I let them know it. The question you should ask is, “Was I too strong for you or were you too weak for me?” Tell your kids the truth, that the two of you are not together. They’ll adjust because they young, but if they see their mother caving for a man, that sends a far different message especially since they are boys. I do have a question: why stay in Madison. I’m an east coast gal and the midwest holds as much excitement for me as a wet biscuit! You don’t have to return to New York but either of the coasts might be a better option for you being that you’re very open and people in your area will smile at you and then hate you at the same time. As far as the farmer, you know the saying, “man up, shut up or get out. Since he didn’t do the former, the last one fits. He’s whipped by his parents, immature and probably couldn’t make a decision past what to have for breakfast. He’ll probably never grow up. My advice: grieve a lot, acknowledge the loss in your life and eventually the wounds will heal. No one likes rejection but in this case his family sounded like a group of assholes that I would have had so much fun tormenting with a sharp wit of sarcasm throughout dinner! Be glad that you don’t have to be related to them. Give some thought to leaving the Madison and move somewhere that has progressive thinkers.