Homesteader shares how many acres it takes to feel cut off from society for real

Chad Ainsworth of the Hopeful Homestead starts with a simple promise: if you’re shopping for land because you want to feel truly alone, the number of acres you think you need is probably not the number that will actually work.

In his “Coffee Talk” episode, Chad talks from inside a tiny cabin parked on what he calls his family’s campsite, on a 21-acre homestead where he says they plan to build their future farmhouse and all the extras – barn, garage, pond, pool, “the whole bit.”

But the real point of his story isn’t the dream list. It’s the learning curve that came first.

Chad describes it as a surprising journey, because the feeling of being “cut off” isn’t just about buying land. It’s about buying the right kind of land.

And that’s where his advice gets practical fast: the acreage number depends heavily on what the property looks like, how it’s shaped, and how much natural cover you have between you and everyone else.

Why Most People Start With The Wrong Number

Chad says when he and his family started shopping, they were looking at 5-acre plots.

He explains why that number felt huge at the time. Like a lot of people, he says they had lived on small residential lots before – quarter-acre places where a full acre already feels like you’re living large.

So in Chad’s mind, five acres sounded enormous. It sounded like privacy. It sounded like breathing room.

That’s an easy mistake to make, and I don’t say that as a jab. It’s a normal “city math” problem—when you’ve lived packed in, your brain treats any open space like a private kingdom.

Chad’s point is that the idea of five acres can be more impressive than five acres in real life, especially once you stand in the middle of it and realize how quickly your eyes hit a boundary line.

The Day A 5-Acre Tour Changed Everything

Chad says they toured a 5-acre property and walked around it, expecting to feel that “lost on your land” feeling right away.

Instead, he remembers standing there realizing something was off.

He describes the plot as a pretty open property – flat, South Florida land – and he says that particular place was five acres of open grass, completely cleared.

And because it was open, he could see neighbors close by.

That moment is where Chad says the truth hit him: maybe five acres wasn’t big enough.

He calls it a “depressing thought,” because it suggests the dream might require “serious land,” and serious land usually means serious money.

I think that part of his story is what makes it relatable. People don’t just want land for projects – gardens, animals, buildings. They want land for the emotional payoff: quiet, distance, control over their own space.

If you buy acreage and still feel watched, still feel close to others, it can feel like you spent a mountain of cash and got the same feeling you were trying to escape.

Wooded Land, Open Land, And The “Invisible Fence” Problem

Chad doesn’t pretend there’s a magic acreage number that works the same for everybody. He repeatedly comes back to one big factor: how wooded the property is.

He explains it like this: if you have five acres that’s fully in the woods and surrounded by more woods, it can feel pretty big.

You might have your little house, your cleared spot, and then a wall of trees that makes you feel tucked away.

That’s not just privacy – it’s visual isolation. And in real life, visual isolation is a huge part of feeling alone.

But Chad adds a warning that matters: once you start traversing your property, you’ll be surprised how quickly you run into boundaries on five acres.

That line is important because it gets at something people don’t think about until they own land. You can feel like you have space while you’re standing still.

Then you start walking. You start wandering. You start imagining kids running around, trails, projects, maybe a garden far from the house.

And suddenly five acres doesn’t feel like a wilderness. It feels like a decent backyard with a fence you can’t see.

This is where my own opinion kicks in: “feeling alone” often isn’t about having no neighbors anywhere on earth. It’s about having enough land that you can forget they exist for a while.

Trees do that. Hills do that. Weird lot shapes can do that. Flat open grassland does the opposite, because it lets your eyes travel forever, and your eyes will eventually land on somebody else’s roof.

Why Chad Says 20 Acres Is The Sweet Spot

After touring lots, thinking it through, and doing research, Chad says they found the property that fit their goal: a 21-acre lot.

He says the reason it worked wasn’t only the acreage. It was the shape of the lot, and the fact that it was partially wooded and partially open.

That mix, in his telling, was the perfect fit to make them feel like they were truly out in the middle of nowhere.

Then Chad gives the number he keeps circling back to: 20 acres.

He says that based on the research they did and the lots they toured, 20 acres “seems to be the sweet spot.”

And his reasoning isn’t “bigger is always better.” He frames it as a balance.

Chad says 20 acres is big enough to feel alone, but not so big that you need to “take out a loan that’s the size of your entire life” just to afford the land.

That’s a very Chad way of putting it – plainspoken, slightly funny, and still dead serious.

He also says 20 acres is big enough to do serious homesteading things: farming, raising “serious farm animals,” and giving kids room to “rip and run” and even get a little lost in a safe way.

This is the part where I think his advice hits hardest: he’s not selling a fantasy where you buy land and become a movie character.

He’s talking about a practical range where you can have privacy and still actually manage the property without it owning you.

The Real “Alone” Feeling Is More Than Acreage

Chad’s story is simple on the surface – 5 acres didn’t work, 21 acres did – but it points to a deeper truth that people ignore when they fixate on a number.

Acreage is just the measurement. The feeling comes from the layout.

If your land is wide open and flat, five acres can feel like you’re standing on a stage.

If your land has woods, bends, natural screens, and pockets of space, even a smaller parcel can feel like it has rooms – outdoor rooms – where you can disappear.

Chad basically argues that “alone” is built from layers: distance, sightlines, and the ability to move around without instantly bumping into the edge.

And I’ll add this: the goal isn’t always to be isolated from people. Sometimes the goal is to be isolated from the noise of people – the feeling that you’re being observed, the sense that you have to behave like you’re still in town.

Chad’s 20-acre sweet spot idea lands because it respects both sides of the tradeoff. You want enough room to breathe, but not so much land that your entire life becomes mowing, maintenance, and money stress.

At the end of his Coffee Talk, Chad wraps it up in a friendly way – thanking viewers, saying that’s the episode, and inviting people to watch another video about why they bought 21 acres and what they plan to do with it.

But the main takeaway from Chad Ainsworth’s own experience is clear: if your goal is to feel truly cut off from society, you should stop thinking only in acres and start thinking in terrain, cover, and how the land makes you feel when you actually stand on it.

And if you want a number anyway – because most of us do – Chad’s answer is straightforward: around 20 acres, especially if it’s at least partly wooded, is where “alone” starts feeling real.