I wasn’t supposed to lose my cool, but today I almost did. At the feed store, the clerk looked at me like I didn’t belong and asked if my husband would load the truck. I run 240 acres alone—birthing calves, fixing fences, hauling hay—but people still underestimate me because I’m a woman.

When I got home, I found a threatening note on my barn door: “I know what you did with the west pasture.” That pasture was my pride and joy—I spent a year fixing it after my ex left it damaged. Someone was trying to intimidate me and make me doubt myself.

I asked my neighbor Roy if he knew anything, but he denied it. Soon, we found fresh footprints near the barn and signs someone tried to pry open the door. I involved the sheriff and told my neighbors. Turns out, a developer was pressuring ranchers to sell their land, using scare tactics like the note.

With the community’s support, the developer backed off. When I returned to the feed store, the clerk greeted me respectfully—no assumptions this time.

I realized true strength isn’t doing everything alone; it’s knowing when to ask for help. People may have underestimated me, but I stood my ground. I run this ranch, and no one will take it from me.

If you’ve ever been doubted or pushed down, remember: you don’t have to fight alone or back down.