“I Nearly Didn’t Survive”: Amanda Owen Breaks Her Silence on the Secret Ordeal That Left Her Family Fearing for Her Life
From the outside, Ravenseat Farm still looks like the picture of rural resilience.
Wind-scoured stone walls. Endless Yorkshire moorland. Children laughing between lambing sheds and muddy tracks. A family that somehow made chaos look comforting — and hardship look romantic — on Our Yorkshire Farm.
But behind the scenes, Amanda Owen, the woman Britain came to know as the Yorkshire Shepherdess, was quietly falling apart.
Now, for the first time, the mother-of-nine is revealing just how close she came to losing everything — including her life — in the devastating aftermath of her marriage breakdown.
🌧 The Marriage Ended — The Collapse Began
When Amanda and her husband Clive Owen separated in 2022 after 22 years of marriage, viewers assumed the transition was pragmatic, even calm.
They still worked the land together.
They still raised their nine children side by side.
They still appeared on screen — stoic, bantering, resilient.
But privately, Amanda was unraveling.
“I just shut down,” she says quietly now.
“Physical and mental health are intertwined — and everything collapsed at once.”
Anxiety.
Depression.
Paranoia.
Agoraphobia.
And, devastatingly, a severe eating disorder.
“All of it was smooshed into one,” she admits.
“A cataclysmic breakdown.”
💔 A New Relationship — And A Breaking Point
The breakdown intensified after Amanda entered a brief relationship with web designer Rob Davies, 72 — a connection that might have been healing in another life.
Instead, it became unbearable under the glare of public scrutiny.
Media attention was relentless.
Online commentary was brutal.
And when Amanda’s weight began to fall dramatically, trolls circled.
“I was called a ‘bag of bones’,” she says.
“I still get trolled now.”
Her 17-year-old daughter Edith quietly stepped in — deleting comments before her mother could see them.
“There were nights,” Amanda recalls,
“when I sat alone in the sheep pens in the dark, just hiding.”
Her voice tightens.
“It’s like having a post-mortem before you’re dead.”
🚑 When Survival Was No Longer Guaranteed
What the public didn’t see was how dangerous things became.
Amanda suffered a swallowing disorder linked to starvation and stress. On one Valentine’s night, alone outside in the darkness, she began vomiting blood.
“I genuinely thought that was it,” she says.
There were collapses while gathering sheep.
Hospital visits.
Emergency calls.
Clive remembers it clearly.
“There were nights I was terrified I wouldn’t see her the next morning.”
For a man known for understatement, it was the scariest period of his life.
🧠 “Why Don’t You Just Eat Something?” — And Why It Wasn’t That Simple
The eating disorder, Amanda explains, wasn’t sudden.
“I’ve always had issues with food,” she admits.
“Nine pregnancies amplify everything.”
But stress stripped away control.
“I had no idea what headline would come next.
I had no control over my own story.
That made me mentally ill — and physically sick.”
Even Clive, blunt and practical, struggled to understand.
“In his basic way,” she says, half-smiling,
“he said, ‘Why don’t you just eat summat?’”
She doesn’t blame him.
Because what finally saved her wasn’t one thing — but accepting help.
🌱 Recovery, Slowly — And On Her Own Terms
Medical intervention, therapy, and time pulled Amanda back from the edge.
She is still fragile.
Still cautious.
Still learning.
But today, she says simply:
“I’m out of the woods.”
“You have relapses. You wobble.
But I’ve turned a corner — and I’m better armed now.”
Her children, she knows, saw everything.
“It taught them resilience,” she says.
“Even when it shouldn’t have had to.”
🏡 Life After Love: Two Homes, One Family
Today, Amanda lives in a nearby cottage while Clive remains at Ravenseat. The children — aged nine to 24 — move freely between homes.
No schedules.
No handovers.
No artificial normality.
“Space saved us,” Amanda admits.
“The tension is gone. Living apart was actually a blessing.”
They still bicker — over toilet rolls, Fairy Liquid, chaos.
But the foundation remains solid.
“We’ll always have each other’s backs,” Clive says.
🎄 A Christmas Built on Survival — Not Perfection
This Christmas, they’ll gather again.
Too many people.
Not enough chairs.
Someone on a milk churn.
Someone else on an upturned washing basket.
Animals fed before presents.
Moon boots instead of snowboards.
A turkey bought last-minute at auction.
And Amanda — still healing, still honest — will cook for the masses.
“We’re not perfect,” she smiles.
“But we’re here.”
After everything, that’s enough.
💬 The Truth Behind the Smiles
Amanda Owen’s story isn’t one of rural idyll.
It’s a story of endurance.
Of collapse hidden behind competence.
Of a woman who nearly didn’t survive the cost of living her life in public.
And of a family who — against the odds — held on.
Because sometimes resilience isn’t loud.
Sometimes it’s just staying alive long enough to tell the truth.