Matt Chisholm with his children Finn, Bree and Bede. Chisholm has written a book about their new life in Omakau, Central Otago. Photo / Lottie Hedley
Matt Chisholm says he no longer feels like an impostor. He has found himself, his tribe, his place in the world.
“I am more me now than I have ever been. The fear of failure doesn’t consume me. I am comfortable feeling uncomfortable,” Chisholm told the Herald.
Four and half years ago, the 47-year-old journalist - who’s worked on TV current affairs shows Close Up, Seven Sharp, Fair Go and Sunday and presented reality shows Survivor New Zealand and Celebrity Treasure Island - was burnt-out and wanting out of Auckland.
Today, Chisholm breeds rare sheep and cattle on a few acres in Chatto Creek - a remote rural town in Central Otago.
He loves the simple life, being the boss and the visible proof of his efforts at the end of the day.
He confesses it takes a whole day for him to complete what would be a half-day’s work for a “real farmer”.
But there is a catch: he works longer hours than he ever did as a journalist and television presenter, for less money.
And he misses his family when he travels to MC events and to promote mental health awareness in rural communities.
“Coming out of the 2022/2023 drought, I couldn’t shake off my negativity. I was a mental health advocate, but I was losing it. I had a small farm, three kids to wrangle, and I was worried how I’d pay the mortgage. When the cost of living crisis hit I thought I would lose everything.”
In his second book, The Road to Chatto Creek, Chisholm explains why he, his wife Ellen, 40, and their two boys Bede, 7 and Finn, 6, left Auckland to live in Omakau in Central Otago, where their 2-year-old daughter Bree was born.
“It was a huge transition. My world is smaller now. But I craved a sense of community and connection, and we have that now.”
He says he plays a big part in the small community and finds it hard saying no to helping others in need.
“It gets me into s*** but it’s feel-good stuff that helps others and it helps me too. At the end of last year, I thought, jeez, I’m a bit cooked again. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s also upsetting when sheep die, or calves need to be culled - it’s hard yakka at times - but you can’t control nature.”
The award-winning sheep breeder says he and his family are wrapped in love by “good bastards”.
While he was establishing himself, locals offered him free grazing and shearing, loaned him a brand-new John Deere tractor and installed an irrigation system on their property.
“I think people might want to help because I am always getting into s***, and I don’t know what I am doing. I take shortcuts because I am away a lot, the generosity of locals blows me away.”
The rookie farmer returns favours by hosting functions, charities and coaching kids’ football. He has rediscovered grassroots rugby and is a keen supporter of the local Matakanui Combined club.
Last year he started coaching his sons’ rugby teams.
There was an altercation where he nearly quit but he said the locals had his back.
He claims a coach from the opposing team accused him of intimidating the children. That infuriated Chisholm and he told the coach to ‘f*** off.’ One parent thought he was unfairly maligned for that, and left a gift in his ute.
“It was a mug with a sheep drawn on it and a handwritten message: ‘Matt, you’re flocking awesome, and our little flock really needs you’. It made me well up.”
There have been laugh-out-loud moments - like attempting to back a trailer “like a real man” in front of other farmers -
And challenges - like helping a cow give birth to a backwards calf - and running over two lambs while talking to the vet on the phone.
He’s always hustling for the next gig and says he is “crap” at invoicing and admin - he’s been caught short for cash.
At Wellington airport his eftpos card declined when he tried to order coffee.
When he arrived in Queenstown and couldn’t pay his parking ticket, he was rescued by a stranger’s kindness.
A man delivering milk at the Airport recognised him, saw that he was distressed and offered him help.
Tired, hungry and desperate to see his family, he had thought he had $10,000 up his sleeve but forgot the money had gone on taxes and the mortgage.
“He said ‘Mate, how much do you need?’ He handed me $200, which saved my arse. I asked for his bank account details and he told me to ‘slap that coin into the charity you represent’. I did pay him back but what a good bastard.”
In April he posted on social media he needed a part-time job and $200,000 a year to live.
Was that a joke or a cry for help?
“It was a bit of both. I have a gig that’s ending this year, so I need to find another one. It was a bit of a piss-take with a bit of seriousness in it. In the book I said I need $80,000 a year to pay the mortgage. A lot of people are in the same boat or worse off.”
At his lowest point, Chisholm thought about taking his own life.
He said the uncertainty of not having a regular salary robbed him of his joy. His Auckland psychologist diagnosed him with General Anxiety Disorder, which has plagued him throughout his life.
His father-in-law Dennis Cairns, who lives over the fence with his wife Christine, knew he was “off” and needed help.
He convinced Chisholm not to give up on his dream.
“Dennis is a smart and hardworking man who sensed I needed help. I don’t like asking for help, which is another thing I need to get better at. He’s honest and will say, ‘Matt your sheep are too fat’.
“He is letting me figure things out for myself and doesn’t want me to fail.
“Sometimes I think he sees me f***ing around in the yard and thinks ‘how did my beautiful daughter end up with this idiot?’”
He took his own mental health advice, turned down work opportunities, took medication, started running - and slept.
Chisholm was born and raised in Milton, the youngest of four brothers: Dean, Aaron and Nick. As an 8-year-old he longed to become a farmer. He saved up his money and bought six sheep that produced valuable wool and lambs.
His father Alan was a stock agent and his mother Joss a hairdresser.
His happiest childhood memory was playing in the paddock with his dog Rock and tending to the sheep, pigs, calves and chickens at home.
He tagged along to the saleyard with his father, who taught him how to muster and shear sheep, wean and butcher animals.
Weekends were spent spotlighting eels, catching lobsters in the creek and “hooning around” on motorbikes.
The family moved to Oamaru and Chisholm boarded at Waitaki Boys’ High. When he turned 15, his parents separated. He fell out with his father and has been estranged from him ever since.
Late last year a friend of Chisholm’s persuaded him to take his sons to meet their grandfather - who lives 15 minutes away in Alexandra.
“It was strange, but I was so proud of Bede, who basically interviewed Dad and asked him a lot of questions in a mature way. The old man gave us a lot of information that went over our heads then we drove off, but I felt good about it. I’ll take Bree to meet him one day.
“As humans we are all flawed. Dad did the best he could with what he knew at the time, but we are all a bit damaged, me included. What we all inherited from him was the desire to live a full life.”
There was no family photo, no forgiveness and no plan to catch up again.
Ellen Chisholm says, “Matt is fantastic with the kids, he is the father he never had. Matt’s now providing our family the farm life he hankered for as a child.“
These days, the self-described Southern Man with an infectious laugh barely watches television.
He says he prefers spending time with his sons feeding lambs, whacking out thistles and making cowpat cakes to filming reality contestants having catfights in Fiji.
He misses interviewing and the creative process of producing a well-crafted story. He says he’s happy to be away from the “petty politics and wokeness”.
He wonders whether he is making enough of a contribution to the world and whether he can be a better father. And, even if things go “tits up” he knows what it is like living the dream.
“Bede is a world-beater, a top student and great footy player who always wants to improve himself. Finn could be the next ‘Milky Bar kid’ but he won’t say ‘I love you’ 30 times a day like his brother. He is tough, a scrapper and will stand up for the kid at school who is bullied.
“Bree likes hanging out with me on the farm, she is playful and likes to perform. She’s always pulling silly faces and has a great sense of humour. My heart belongs here, all I want is right here.”
The Road to Chatto Creek is available on July 30,$45, Allen & Unwin
SUICIDE AND DEPRESSION
Where to get help:
• Lifeline: Call 0800 543 354 or text 4357 (HELP) (available 24/7)• Suicide Crisis Helpline: Call 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO) (available 24/7)• Youth services: (06) 3555 906• Youthline: Call 0800 376 633 or text 234• What’s Up: Call 0800 942 8787 (11am to 11pm) or webchat (11am to 10.30pm)• Depression helpline: Call 0800 111 757 or text 4202 (available 24/7)• Helpline: Need to talk? Call or text 1737• Aoake te Rā (Bereaved by Suicide Service): Call 0800 000 053. If it is an emergency and you feel like you or someone else is at risk, call 111.
Carolyne Meng-Yee is an Auckland- based investigative journalist. She worked for the Herald on Sunday in 2007-2011 and rejoined the Herald in 2016. She was previously a commissioner at TVNZ and an award-winning current affairs producer for 60 Minutes, 20/20 and Sunday.
Drought speculation for Hawke's Bay is premature, but the Bay is vulnerable, Niwa says.