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Survival Diary: April 29 - Preparing For Beauty’s Arrival

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Welcome to today's Survival Diary May 29.

Homesteading isn’t just about growing food or raising animals—it’s about rebuilding, healing, and creating something meaningful from what’s been broken.

This weekend, as we prepared for the arrival of Beauty—our newest horse—I found myself reflecting on how closely her story mirrors my own.

She came from trauma, mistreated and misunderstood, yet still full of potential.

And now, like me, she’s getting a second chance.

There’s something sacred about readying a space for an animal who needs to feel safe.

As we cleaned the barn, cleared the yard, and made plans for her new pasture, it wasn’t just physical labor—it was a labor of love.

These moments—where trust is slowly built and peace begins to take root—are what homesteading is truly about.

This is the heart of my survival diary: not just the chores and checklists, but the stories that shape us.

And today’s story starts with Beauty.

A Weekend of Hard Work, Healing, and Hope

Yesterday was one of those emotionally charged, physically exhausting, and deeply meaningful days on the homestead—the kind of day that reminds me why I do what I do, even when it’s hard.

We spent the day preparing for someone very special: Beauty, our new horse.

Beauty wasn’t always her name.

She was called Dolly before Sarah, my daughter, looked into her eyes and said, “She’s a Beauty.”

And honestly, that name suits her so much better—because even after everything she’s been through, there’s grace and strength in her.

Beauty is more than a name; it’s a reflection of her spirit.

What many people don’t know is that Beauty came from an incredibly traumatic situation.

She was beaten while chained to a saddle.

Beaten so badly that she finally broke free and almost trampled the woman who was hurting her.

A hay man happened to arrive, saw what was happening, and was able to load her into his trailer before calling 911.

That woman ended up in the hospital.

Beauty, originally rehomed elsewhere, wouldn’t eat with the other horses.

She was deemed “dangerous”—not wanted.

That’s when she came to me.

And maybe that’s why I connect so deeply with her.

Cleaning the Barn, Healing the Heart

Sarah and I, along with a couple of her friends, spent the weekend cleaning out the barn and yard, making space for Beauty.

Not just physically, but emotionally too.

Because to welcome someone who’s been through trauma, you have to make room.

The barn was cluttered, the yard a little overgrown, but as we worked, it felt like something inside me was clearing, too.

Like we were preparing not just a stall, but a sanctuary.

Jerry is working on building her a stall with access to a secure pasture where she can roam freely.

I know that freedom is important to her now.

Just like it was for me when I finally got out of the house I grew up in.

A place where fear ruled.

Where food was used as punishment.

Where trust was shattered again and again.

Beauty’s story is different from mine, but the pain?

The survival instinct?

That I understand.

And I think she knows that I do.

A Quiet Victory

This morning, I cleaned Beauty’s front hooves for the first time.

She was nervous, and yes, she tried to kick—not out of aggression, but out of fear.

I’ve been there, too.

When you’ve been hurt, it takes time to trust again.

I didn’t force it.

I just stayed calm, offered gentleness, and let her feel safe.

And in that small moment, something shifted.

Trust is earned.

It’s a daily process.

Just like healing.

Working Together, Moving Forward

We still have more to do—more to clean, more to build—but we’re almost there.

Sarah and I have been working nonstop, and Jerry is ready to start on the stall and fencing.

I’ve imagined what this space will look like when Beauty finally arrives.

Not just as a rescued animal, but as a true part of our homestead.

When I was growing up, I was always last in line.

I was the kid who had to wait to eat, who wasn’t protected, who was punished for not being perfect.

Back then, I would have given anything for someone to see me—really see me—and say, “You matter.”

I see that same need in Beauty.

And I want her to know she’s safe now.

She’s wanted.

She has a purpose beyond survival.

Just like I do.

Homesteading Is Healing

So many people think homesteading is just gardening and canning and feeding animals.

But the truth is—it’s soul work.

It’s about rebuilding what was broken.

It’s about offering love and purpose to creatures who’ve been cast aside.

It’s about giving yourself permission to rest, to trust, and to grow.

Beauty and I are both survivors.

And here on this patch of land, we’re both learning what it means to be more than that.

To live.

To thrive.

To believe in something better.

Have you ever taken in an animal with a hard past?

Or maybe you’ve come through your own trauma and found healing through homesteading or caring for others?

I’d love to hear your story.

Let’s connect in the comments—because none of us are in this alone.

Behind The Scenes Survival Diary

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