Surrounded by woods and dirt roads, living in a small town where everyone knows everyone is my idea of paradise. Just because we live in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean our sisters are our mothers and our brothers are our husbands. I look past being labeled a “redneck” or “hick” because labeling doesn’t faze me. There is nothing wrong with living out here and loving it. If everyone wanted to live in the middle of nowhere, there would be no country settings left because people would be crowded into those areas.

People in my little town just love the quiet and open spaces. We don’t want to hear car horns, sirens, and city noise all night long when we’re trying to sleep. We want to hear the creek running, the wind blowing through the trees, the fox, and the peepers. If headlights shining in your window at midnight are what you like, you go right ahead and do your thing, but I’d rather look out and see fireflies and the sky filled with bright stars.

In the daytime, I love to go for walks in the woods or down the dirt road. In the summer, I spend my time at county fairs, mudding, and around bonfires. Sometimes I go to my neighbors’ houses just to visit and have a slice of homemade pie. It’s like we’re one big family of happy people. I love where I grew up. I wouldn’t change it for the world. If you want to call me a redneck, be my guest. I’m a proud one.