05/26/2026
Over the last year, I’ve had to face some hard truths about myself and about this business.
I grew up believing that worth came from being capable, independent, useful, and low-needs. I learned very early that love and connection were tied to performance, not vulnerability. So I became very good at carrying things. Very good at enduring. Very good at giving more than I had.
That adaptation helped build a successful farm.
But if I’m honest, the farm also quietly grew around my self-erasure.
For 18 years, I pushed through exhaustion, physical strain, emotional strain, and chronic stress. I ignored my body for a very long time. Eventually, my mind and nervous system could not sustain that pace anymore.
When I began trying to create a more sustainable version of the greenhouse, I was surprised by how much resistance there was to even small boundaries. I think many people became accustomed to having access to me, my time, my labor, and my flexibility in ways that were never actually sustainable.
Something I hope people come to understand:
Small businesses do not make difficult changes lightly.
When a small business sets a boundary, raises prices, limits availability, changes hours, stops special orders, or scales back, it is often because the person behind it is trying to survive.
If someone truly wants to support a small business, support has to include respecting boundaries — even when it’s inconvenient or disappointing. Otherwise, “support” can become pressure for special access at the expense of the person already carrying too much.
I’m deeply grateful for the people who have supported this farm and my family over the years. Truly. This community helped sustain something meaningful for a long time.
I am finally learning that sustainability has to include me too.
— Elayne
