Conditional Support vs. Real Resiliency
When we left social media, something became clear. The partnerships we thought were solid were not. Not a single local business reached out. Not one of the food organizations we have partnered with bothered to check in. These are the very organizations we have fought for, defended, and taken blows for. We shook their hands and gave them hundreds of pounds of fresh food and pantry items for free. We stood up for them publicly, even when it meant we were the ones receiving the threats and the hateful messages. We absorbed the cost of being attacked for supporting them. Yet when the storm came for us, their silence was absolute. They could not even muster a quiet word behind the scenes, not a simple message, not the smallest acknowledgement. Nothing.
And to be clear, we are not upset. We don’t hold grudges. But we do pay attention. We notice who shows up and who doesn’t, and that awareness shapes how we move forward.
What we did not expect was the response from strangers. The outpouring of thoughtful emails, the sign-ups to our newsletter, the messages of encouragement that came in from people we had never met. People didn’t just send kind words. They backed it up with action, choosing to support the farm in ways that went beyond talk. For every negative comment, there were ten more that spoke with conviction, reminding us that what we are building matters to people outside of the usual circles. It was humbling. It was also clarifying. And we are deeply grateful for every person who took the time to reach out, to write, to stand with us. That support reminded us that not everyone is bound by fear, and that there are still people willing to connect honestly, without conditions.
Support, especially in the business world, is conditional. It lasts as long as it serves someone else’s bottom line. Businesses live in fear of being cancelled, of losing one customer, one dollar, one fragile perception that could threaten their reputation. That fear chains them. They cannot stand beside anyone without calculating the cost.
We are not beholden to that system. This farm exists because we feed ourselves first. We control food. We live in resiliency. That means we can walk away from every dollar and still thrive. We can stop selling eggs tomorrow and nothing about our lives would collapse. That is real freedom.
Most people live on shaky support systems without ever questioning them. What would you do if your entire social media presence burned down overnight? If the only way you reach people disappeared tomorrow, how much of what you have built would survive? If the answer is not much, then it was never stable to begin with. Resiliency does not depend on platforms. It cannot be cancelled, deleted, or taken offline.
It is also why we do not count on people. People flake, they drift, they die, they lose interest. The cycle is predictable. What is not predictable is how deeply strangers can sometimes care when you least expect it. But resiliency is not built on care. Resiliency is built on the dirt under our nails, on rabbits in the freezer, on jars of broth in the pantry, on firewood stacked and ready. It is built on not needing the conditional support of those who say one thing and do another.
This farm is not about being liked. It is about being untouchable.