It hit me on a frosty morning while I was shoveling snow off the barn roof: relationships aren’t all that different from ranch work. Bear with me here. Whether you’re breaking in a green horse or warming up to the idea of sharing your Netflix password with someone special, the recipe is the same. It takes patience, a dash of humor, and an unshakable belief in who you are and what you stand for.
I grew up wrangling cattle, dodging thunderstorms, and keeping a watchful eye on the horizon. Life out here teaches you two very important lessons: stay grounded, and know your values—because storms come whether you’re ready or not. While I’m no cowboy Casanova (I’ve had my share of blunders in both boots and love), these values have carried me through everything. Even when I’ve fallen flat on my face, which I promise has happened more times than I’d like to admit. But hey, that’s where the best lessons are learned, isn’t it?
So, pull up a hay bale, cowboy or cowgirl or neither of the above—we’re diving into what I stand for and how it shapes the way I navigate relationships, writing, and, well, life.
1. Keep It Real: Authenticity Above All Else
Growing up, there were no shortcuts. You don’t outrun a thunderstorm by pretending it’s not coming. You don’t mend a busted fence with hope alone. Living on the ranch drilled into me that the truth always wins out—whether that’s in love, work, or how you communicate with your readers.
In relationships, being yourself is like staking a claim to who you truly are. And I mean the real “you,” not the polished version that only sees daylight after two cups of coffee and an Instagram filter. If you’re quirky, own it. If you snort when you laugh, lean into it (P.S. snorting is adorable). Pretending to be someone else is a recipe for frustration—and trust me, I’ve learned this the hard way.
I once went out with someone who insisted they were an avid hiker. Turns out, their definition of “hiking” involved taking selfies 20 feet from the parking lot. Meanwhile, I’m up there on a ridge, thinking we’re gonna conquer the Tetons together. It didn’t work because we weren’t honest about who we were. I learned that when you’re real from the start, you attract what’s meant for you—and dodge the mismatched selfies before they happen.
2. Love Is Built Like a Barn: One Board at a Time
It’s tempting to think relationships magically appear, fully formed, like one of those prefab houses on HGTV. But the best ones? They’re built piece by piece, with intention and care. It’s exactly how my dad taught me to raise a barn: measure twice, hammer once. And most importantly, don’t skimp on the foundation.
In life and love, the foundation is built on honesty, trust, and communication. Think of it like checking the fit on your saddle—spend extra time getting it right upfront, and it’s a smoother ride down the trail. For me, this has meant unlearning the “strong, silent type” shtick that men are so often fed. Hint: silence doesn’t solve problems. Talking does.
After one particularly heated argument with a former partner, I tried the old Wyoming special—huff outdoors, chop firewood, avoid the issue entirely. What did it solve? Nada. What actually helped was sitting down, looking her in the eye, and having the “I messed up” conversation. Sometimes love is less about grand gestures and more about showing up for the small, hard stuff.
3. Find the Humor in the Mess
Speaking of “small, hard stuff,” let’s talk about the awkward moments. Relationships, much like ranch life, overflow with them. I’m convinced that if you can’t laugh at yourself, you’re in for a bumpy ride. Ever accidentally confess your feelings over soggy pancakes when you meant to play it cool? Been there. Ever planned a romantic date only to discover they’re allergic to 90% of the menu? Yup, that too.
Out here, you laugh—or the coyotes beat you to it. Relationships thrive when you leave room for lightness. If you’re too focused on making everything perfect, you’ll miss the best moments—like making fun of each other’s terrible karaoke or realizing you both hate the same rom-com cliche.
One of my most cherished memories is dancing barefoot to Creedence Clearwater Revival under a string of dim ranch lights, mud smeared up to our shins from an earlier downpour. It wasn’t fancy, and it sure wasn’t “Pinterest-worthy.” But it was us—unfiltered, goofy, and full of the kind of joy you can’t fake.
4. Respect the Seasons
If there’s one thing life on a ranch will teach you, it’s the wisdom of seasons. You can’t rush spring just because you’re sick of winter (no matter how desperate you are to thaw out). This applies to love, too. Relationships come in their own time, evolve at their own pace, and sometimes, yes, even end.
I’ve learned the hard way that forcing a connection—or gripping too tightly—is like trying to plant zucchini during a frost. Whether it’s letting go of someone who wasn’t right for me, or learning to move forward from heartache, I rely on the seasons as my guide.
When I travel these trails, it helps to remind myself that endings aren’t failures—they’re just a shift in the cycle. Someone once told me: don’t mourn the person you lost; instead, thank them for helping you grow into who you are now. It’s advice I carry with me, alongside my pocketknife and an enduring love of CCR.
5. Never Lose Wonder
Finally, here’s a truth as essential to relationships as it is to life: never stop looking for beauty. I don’t mean just in obvious romantic gestures or flashy date nights. I mean beauty in the smallest and quietest corners—like the way they wrinkle their nose when they’re thinking hard, or how it feels when they silently grab your hand in the middle of a crowded room. These little sparks remind us why we’re here in the first place.
Growing up in Wyoming, I learned early on to find awe wherever I could, even in something as simple as the way frost glitters on a fence post at sunrise. That same wonder is what fuels me as a writer, a partner, and a genuinely flawed but fiercely hopeful human. Our connections—be they fleeting or lifelong—are the wildest parts of this wilderness we call life.
And so, what do I stand for? I stand for authenticity, because it’s where every solid relationship begins. I stand for communication, for effort, and for showing up in muddy boots when life demands it. I stand for finding humor in failure and beauty in the mess we make along the way. Most of all, I stand for love—not the shiny rom-com version, but the rugged, imperfect kind that can weather a Wyoming storm.
When you know what you stand for, you don’t fear the storms. You saddle up, grip tight, and face them head-on—because everything worth keeping is on the other side.