PFAS in the water. Toxins in the food. An HOA that chooses what color your house can be. A mortgage funding someone else's empire. We're a family in the Florida suburbs asking a serious question: is opting out actually possible — and what would it cost? This blog is the investigation. We don't have answers yet. My husband isn't convinced. I might be stopped by hard facts. Come with us anyway.
"I'm not sure I want a farm. I'm sure I want to stop funding billionaires, eating forever chemicals, and living inside constraints I never agreed to. The farm might be the answer. I'm here to find out if it actually is."
I'm a content designer at Meta. My husband is a project manager at AT&T. We have two daughters in advanced classes at great schools who are competitive gymnasts training for state-level competition. On paper, we have exactly the life you're supposed to want.
PFAS chemicals in the municipal water. Pesticides on the lawn next door drifting into our garden. Processed food engineered for shelf life, not health. An HOA with opinions about our mailbox. A mortgage that, when you follow the money, funds someone you've never met and never would choose to.
I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and Hashimoto's. My body is already fighting itself. I've started to wonder how much of what surrounds us is making that harder — and whether I have any real power to change it from inside a suburb.
The suburbs feel like a managed life. Schedules set by schools, employers, and competition calendars. Constraints set by municipalities and HOAs. Food chosen by whoever runs the supply chain this week. It's comfortable. It's also not freedom.
The farm isn't the dream. The freedom is the dream. The farm might be one way to get there. I'm doing the actual investigation — what it would take, what it would cost, and what we'd be giving up. Because what we'd be giving up is real and specific and has a leotard and a competition schedule.
I could be stopped by hard facts. My husband probably hopes I will be. This blog is what happens either way.
This is the real list. Not "I want chickens." The systems, chemicals, and constraints I'm trying to understand — and whether leaving actually changes them, or just moves the problem somewhere quieter.
PFAS in municipal water supplies, pesticides in conventional produce, microplastics in packaging. With autoimmune disease, chemical load isn't abstract — it's a real variable I want control over.
Every grocery run, utility bill, mortgage payment, and Amazon order flows somewhere. Most of it flows upward. Growing food, generating energy, and owning land outright changes who benefits from our existence.
HOA rules. Municipal zoning. Work schedules. School calendars. Social obligations. The suburbs are a managed life — and most of the managing wasn't chosen. I want to audit every constraint and decide which ones I actually accept.
Knowing what's in our food means growing or sourcing it ourselves. Not as a hobby — as a genuine reduction in dependence on a supply chain optimized for shelf life, not health.
Grid dependence is a vulnerability — political, financial, and practical. Solar, battery storage, and water collection aren't ideological positions. They're insurance and autonomy.
Is complete freedom achievable? Probably not. Is significantly more freedom — over food, land, time, money flow, chemical exposure — achievable? That's the real question this whole investigation is trying to answer.
Classic content designer move: before we've agreed to do anything, I've already built the framework for evaluating it. Here's what we've decided matters if we ever actually do this — and the documents I made him read.
Reliable well or strong water rights. Non-negotiable for livestock and off-grid systems. Drought history matters here.
Must HaveEnough land for grazing, a real kitchen garden, multiple structures, and breathing room between them.
Must HaveAgricultural zoning that permits multiple dwellings, short-term rentals, and farm animals without costly fights.
Must HaveRA and Hashimoto's mean specialist access isn't optional. Within reasonable range of a rheumatologist and endocrinologist.
Must HaveRemote work is part of the financial bridge. Starlink-viable or fiber nearby. Non-negotiable for the transition period.
Strong WantFlood zone maps, wildfire history, soil stability. We want to build something lasting, not fight nature every season.
Must HaveSouthern exposure, room for a ground mount. Enough sun to run real systems and offset grid dependence meaningfully.
Strong WantFor guests, deliveries, emergencies, and joints that don't love mud roads in February. Gravel is fine. Seasonal is not.
Strong WantNot suburbs. Not total isolation. A real town with a hardware store, a diner, and people who say hello.
Nice to HaveWhat PFAS levels actually look like in suburban municipal water, and why this is now the hardest number to unknow.
The Chemical LoadMortgage, groceries, utilities, subscriptions — I traced a month of spending upstream. The results were not comforting.
The MoneyHOA bylaws, municipal codes, school schedules, corporate calendar. I listed every constraint on our daily life. It took a while.
The Constraint AuditEveryone says farming with autoimmune disease is the craziest part of the plan. I think the suburbs might actually be harder on my body.
HealthThe dream is multigenerational. The current reality is two people in a suburb having the same argument in different ways until something shifts. Here's everyone who has a stake in where this lands.
No income tax. Closer to our son and his fiancée in Michigan. Land prices that still make sense. Four seasons without brutal winters. And an agritourism market that actually exists. Here's the real research — including the parts that complicate the picture.