You Can Either Kill My Self-Esteem or You Can Help Me Thrive

Okay, so since I know you are all avid readers of my blog (come on, let me have this win), you know that I absolutely love the stable where I ride. I've been given permission by the owner to use the name of the barn in my blog moving forward so here it is: Bramblewood. Isn't that just a magnificent name? Just makes you think of all things horsey and woodsy and naturey. Like dryads and nymphs. 

I love Bramblewood and I love everything about it. The horses, the instructors, the other riders, the barn kittens - I could go on and on (and I usually do). But the number 1 thing I love about Bramblewood? 

They accept me for who.I.am. They don't judge me for being heavier than I should be or not having the cutest clothes or not always knowing what to say. The barn owner actually pushes me to be who I am and encourages me to ask assertive questions and say what I'm really feeling (still working on that of course). But the focus of this today is the acceptance part. 

When I first reached out to Bramblewood a year and a half ago about lessons, they didn't ask me my age or my height or my weight. They knew I was an adult but that was about it. And of course I first had to attend a Welcome Workshop (amazing) before I got into the program but then I hit the ground running. No one made a comment about the fact that I'm a little heavy (which I am always working on and forgetting to work on and committing to working on and slacking off). No, they just matched me up with a horse and we went from there. 

This weekend, I heard about another barn in passing and I decided to check out their website just to see. Boy, they fancy. They have like 40 stalls and three stories in their barn (you ever heard of a horse on a second story? I haven't. Maybe I'm uncultured). Trails and indoor arenas and dressage arenas and yada yada yada. Yep. They fancy.

So I checked out their lesson page. They had lots of information about their riding program but one thing on their page was key to me and stood out to me - no riders over ____ pounds. That was it. If you were over this amount of weight, there was no room for you at this barn. I'm about 15 pounds over that limit (you can use your imagination to figure out the limit) and, had I been searching for a barn to ride at and seen that, my self-esteem would.have.been.crushed. That would have been akin to them telling me "you are too fat to be one of us. You would break our horses." Man. Can you imagine? Missing out on the wonderful connections and lessons horses can teach us because I like cake and don't like working out? 

Now, I'm not saying that barn owners and instructors shouldn't be careful when pairing a heavier set rider with a horse. There's a cute, fun little dapple gray pony guy at my barn that I'm not ever going to ride because I'm too big for him. I'll never ride Lady or Magic. 

But I (and those like me) shouldn't be turned away completely because I'm overweight. That just reinforces everything  that I tell myself about myself. If I'd read that when I was looking for a horse barn, that would have stopped me right there. Why was I even considering going back to horseback riding? I'm too fat, I'll hurt the horse, no one will like me, they say on their website that they don't want people like me. And that would have started me into a downward spiral and I'd never have found the joy that I have now.

Luckily, I found Bramblewood. A place where even if you weren't built for riding, you could still find a home. A place where groundwork and connection work - moments where you don't even get on the horse - provide just as much a home as the lessons from the back of the horse. The staff at Bramblewood and the instructors at Bramblewood don't blink an eye when they see me. I still remember a lesson when I was just a couple months into riding when I was on Julian and I went to mount him and he shifted because his back or his leg was hurting (I can't remember which) and the owner of the barn had me get off immediately and switch to Moose. And I think she could tell that I was self-conscious and worried that I'd hurt Julian because I was too large and so she went out of her way to make it clear that he wasn't at his best and it wasn't me (whether that was true or not). So I'm grateful.

I did some more research and found another local barn that isn't accepting adult riders right now because of consideration of the horses' size and abilities. While that isn't as painful to my self-esteem as being told I'm over a limit, it still would have depressed me if I'd found that first.

So, to make a long story short, there are a zillion reasons why I love Bramblewood. But first and foremost is that looks and size and number of pimples don't matter. Even if you aren't "built" for riding and most pairs of breeches don't fit right, there' still a place for you at Bramblewood. You can be a part of the change in the horse world that is focusing more on connection and just being with the horses. Just because you don't fit the mold for the ideal rider, you can still belong at Bramblewood. 

I'm on my way to being an instructor at Bramblewood and I'm more excited about that than I can remember being about anything in the past. I'm hopeful to use my stories and my experiences to help all my students (whether they be overweight adults like me or trim little 11 year olds) be their best selves. Because it takes a village. Horses, barn kittens, fellow riders, instructors, barn owners ... it takes everyone.

And I'm so grateful that Bramblewood is my village.

Life Isn't Always Rainbows

*disclaimer - I'm not even sure this makes sense. Just my thoughts from tonight. Read at your own risk.*

Sometimes, life is a big ole' messy downpour. Puddles, rain down your shirt, soaked sock because you didn't realize there was a hole in your boot. Chilly wind in your face. Cold rain just for good measure. Sometimes, even going to your happy place isn't really enough.

But you still gotta appreciate the small, good moments, even if you have to look extra super hard for it.

Today was a rough day. It was go-go-go at work from my arrival at 7:45 until my departure at 4:15 (15 minutes later than I wanted to leave). I did IDs and Chromebooks by myself this morning, solved tech problems, handed out sub computers, sent emails, talked Beta Convention roommates - all before 8:45. From there it was a full on busy day of teaching a mystery lesson (my favorite lesson), solving more tech problems (and trying to get kids to behave for my mom who was their sub), enjoying lunch for 5 minutes (which was interrupted twice for ID issues), receipting my ID money and making copies for one class while forgetting to make more for the other, watching ISS so their teacher could go on lunch, running to the bookkeeper's office to figure out how my money was off (I can't count, that's how), racing to my last two classes of the day (and sending a kid to get my Crocs from my office because I was done with the cute heels), dashing out to car duty, comforting a kid who was crying because she missed her bus and helping her get in touch with someone who could come pick her up, and finally leaving 15 minutes later than I wanted (and then having to stop by my work bestie's house to drop off her computer). While also forgetting to make copies for tomorrow and translate two of my mystery lesson characters into Spanish. Oh well. Guess I'll get there early tomorrow.

Anyway, to make a long story short (yeah right), by the time I got home and changed into my barn clothes, I was later leaving the house than I wanted and thus later getting to the barn. Which isn't really a bad thing because I didn't have a lesson or anything, I was just using one of my half lease rides so the timing didn't really matter - I just like to be there when I say I'm going to be there, which in this case was 5. Because that's how my brain works.

So suffice it to say that by the time I got to the barn, I wasn't in the best mood. I got to learn some not-so-glamorous horsey stuff (I love that the barn owner and other instructors let me listen in and watch while they do the basic horsey stuff because I'm a nerd and while I am now immensely glad I have a mare, I still like learning things) and then I went and got Pepper. 

I brushed her some.

I gave her a mint. 

I rested my head on her neck and breathed. 

And then I took her up to the round pen to do some connection work. I've been watching Warwick Schiller videos and trying to "Lead with Energy." 

But my heart and my head just weren't in it. It was cold (my thermal gloves need to arrive) and Pepper was feeding off my vibes that today just wasn't a good day. I let her mosey around the round pen and did some matching steps but I didn't really feel like trying any of the Warwick stuff I've learned. Pepper seemed a little extra tense (it was darker than when we usually go up to the round pen and there were some strange noises) but I knew I didn't have the right headspace and patience for Masterson stuff either. 

One of the amazing things that I love about horses is how in tune they are with our emotions and feelings. I got the awesome opportunity to help with a Girls Scout group on Sunday (best.day.ever) and it was so fun explaining to them how horses mirror our energy and respond to our moods. So as I watched Pepper, I knew that she was responding to my mood but I also knew that I was not any use to her in my current state and that I just wasn't going to get out of my funk right then.

So, feeling a little defeated, I put her lead rope back on and we left the round pen. 

Sounds like no big deal, right? We left the round pen.

But it is a big deal. Because Pepper does not like leaving the round pen. She thinks it is going to eat her. The last few times we've been in there, Pepper has flipped out when leaving, even rearing a little on the lead rope. Chris helped me with some tips and suggestions the last time and I made sure to use them tonight - waiting at the open gate for a few minutes before walking through to show her that it was fine - and she left the round pen with no issues. 

And that was that. After that, I cleaned out her hooves, put her away and gave her the rest of her mints. It was dark and cold and so I headed home. 

There'd been no magical ah-ha moment. I hadn't felt super connected with Pepper like I have other times. I didn't feel any amazing surges of joy. My mom asked how it was as we talked on the way home and I said, "Fine." I talked more about my anxiety and issues and how I wish I was more assertive than about my time at the barn and that's not how I usually am.

But now as I'm sitting here at my computer spilling out my guts and trying to be transparent with the 4 people that read this, I am realizing that even when things are hard and they're tough and you're not at your best mentally or emotionally, you can still take comfort in the little things. Because without the little things, the big things don't matter either.

Not every day is going to be a home run. Not every work day is going to be amazing, not every moment spent at the barn is going to be transcendent (though any time at the barn is still a blessing).

So when the going gets tough and the headspace gets out of whack, you gotta remember the small things and remember that tomorrow is a brand new day, a fresh start, a chance for a new opportunity.

Today? 

Today, Pepper left the round pen with all 4 hooves on the ground.

And I'll take it.

Pepper Likes Me For Me

My beautiful "dragon pony."

Yesterday morning was not a great morning for me. Sometimes, I get these moments when I get in my head and find myself stuck in a pattern of negative thoughts with no way out - at least none that I can see. It happens less these days, for which I am definitely grateful, but when it hits, it's hard to talk myself out of the spiral and into a better headspace.

Yesterday was one of those times. 

I was going to go to an equine ministry open house type thing in Wellford and I was really excited about it - until I started getting ready. That's when the negative thoughts began to creep in.

"You won't know anyone and so it's going to be really awkward because you won't have anyone to talk to." 

"Man, you've gained back all the weight you lost over the summer and everyone will notice that you're not some trim, slim, athletic girl."

"People will notice you don't have the cutest hairstyle - are you really going to wear your hair like that?"

"Haha, even putting on makeup won't help you look better." 

"You're going to make everyone at your current barn mad at you because you're thinking of volunteering somewhere else."

"Why even leave the house?" 

The thoughts just kept spiraling. I FaceTimed my mom and asked her about my hair. I messaged my best friend for some wisdom (which she dispensed because she is amazing). It also didn't help that I've been on Match.com lately and I decided to look and see who had "viewed my profile" and a number of them were guys I'd messaged because I thought we'd be perfect together ... yet they'd viewed my profile and moved on without a word - so clearly something about me was not appealing.

By the time I left my house, I wasn't even excited to go to the ranch. I always get anxious about going new places because my brain is always like "where do I park, how will I know where to go, what if I go to the wrong place, what if I got the date wrong?" but add all the other thoughts on top of that and, boy oh boy, I was definitely struggling. 

So I talked to my mom on the way and just decided to do my best to have a good time. And, since the experience at the ranch isn't the focus of this blog post (I know, I know, you're wondering if there even is a focus), I'll just say that it was amazing, I felt the spirit of the Lord moving in me, and I can't wait to spend some time there. I was quite glad that I went. 

However, the real "ah-ha" moment came when I went to my lesson at my barn (the barn where I was worried it'd be like I was 'cheating' on my friends there if I spent any time at the equine ministry even though the rational part of me knows that they wouldn't disown me for it *fingers crossed*). I wasn't really feeling like riding. It was a dreary day and I just wanted to spend time with Pepper.

So I did. And while I worked with her, while we worked on standing still and being present, on leading with energy, and some small practical things like turning on the haunches/forehand, my worries from that morning seemed so inconsequential. Pepper didn't care what I looked like. She didn't care if I was a little heavier (although I'm sure she'd like it if I lost some weight and had a stronger core haha) or if I was dealing with some acne issues. She likes me for me. 

As I connected with her, something awesome happened (and if this is a normal thing that horses do, don't tell me, I want to live in my bubble). I would stand next to her head, holding the lead rope, and we'd both be facing the same direction. Then, without twitching the lead rope, applying any pressure, or anything, I'd pivot 90 degrees. And, without hesitation, Pepper would turn to once again stand beside me. 

She gets me. She has no expectations of me. She grounds me. She reminds me that being at peace with yourself and with those around you are what's important. To me, Pepper is a reflection of God's love for me. Pepper was created by God, as all horses were, and is a part of one of the most intelligent species there is. Pepper reminds me that she's happy with the way I am and that so is God (something I often forget). 

Being with Pepper, working with her, learning to watch her cues and see when she speaks to me, helps so much with my anxious brain. Outward appearances are great and all, but my self-esteem should not be based on what I think I should look like. Rather, I should take a page from Pepper's book and just be content to be with those who care about me. Who value and love me for me.

Because what Pepper and I have? That connection? It's only growing stronger, deeper, more meaningful. And if she's happy with me (and this is a horse who has an "I bite" sign on her stall) then I sure as heck can be happy with me, too.

Cute pic of Frigg and Lady!

Riding Isn't Everything, Did Ya Know?

The Grown Up Saddle Club!

Back when I first started at my current stable, I thought riding was everything. I wanted to perfect the trot, rock the canter, and just spend my lesson hours in the saddle. When I first started riding Pepper and had to take things slowly (most lessons spent just practicing walk and stop), I wasn't a fan. And while barn lessons were interesting, there were definitely days when I wasn't exactly thrilled about missing riding due to rain.

Now, while I do enjoy riding and snatching snippets of trot when Pepper puts her mind to it, I have just as much (if not more) "fun" on the ground. If you've read my other blog posts, you know that I'm learning about groundwork and connection and really enjoying it. But today was another step towards true horsemanship and it was amazing - not just because of the horse aspect either but also because of the community aspect.

See, it was raining today. Like cats and dogs raining. I was scheduled to do a round pen session with Pepper before my actual lesson because I was curious to see what (if any) effect that would have on our lesson. But when I got to the barn and it was monsooning, I got to do groundwork in the barn aisles with Pepper instead. Did you know you can get a horse to turn on the forehand from the ground? I didn't until today and I'm not gonna lie - I got giddy when Pepper turned on her forehand and kept her front hooves in the same spot! How cool! 

The real incredible, wonderful moment today, though, came from my lesson hour. Three other women have their lesson at the same time as mine and so we had a barn lesson today. We sat and we talked.

That's it. 

Just talked. 

No horses in the lesson. Just some barn kittens. 

No riding. No lunging, no groundwork, nothing.

And it was amazing. It was profound. It was connecting with people through horses (and I'm totally here for that). Not only did I learn more about horse posture and how school horses compartmentalize but I also built community with my instructor and the other three ladies. We talked about our social anxiety (well, I did) and how the barn has helped us (ok, me, I won't put words in other people's mouths) with anxiety. We talked about how cute Chris Hemsworth is (okay, that was me too but I swear the others agreed) and how he was right in the movie 12 Strong when he said the horse moves where you look. 

One of the ladies talked about how she asks the horse she works with if she can ride him and they have such a bond that he answers and she understands. They communicate. How crazy awesome is that? Another lady talked about being assertive and confident at work and with her dogs but not at the barn (although after hearing her trail ride story, I'm immensely impressed she even rides!! Kudos to her!) and my instructor gave some tips for that.

Bottom line? It was wonderful. There was no riding. There was no grooming, no tacking up, nothing. Which don't get me wrong, I missed that but I'd also spent an hour with Pepper before my lesson so I still got my horse time. ;) Some people would have said that the lesson was a waste of $50. Some people wouldn't even have come out if they knew they wouldn't have been riding. Heck, I was that way 6 months ago. 

Now, though? Now, I can appreciate the beauty and wonderfulness that can be found in just communicating with my fellow riders and enjoying the community that is built at my barn. Riding is wonderful and learning about horses is amazing but the community? The people? 

That's priceless.

Round Pen Magic

I've been an avid watcher of Heartland for 15 seasons now. I stopped for a while after my dad died because that was something we did together and I just wasn't interested anymore. Than I house sat at a friend's house this past summer and she had Netflix so I took advantage of that and caught up on Heartland. Now, I have to wait a while for it to come out in America so it's time for some reruns! 

I swear there's a point to this. 

On Heartland, they do a lot with round pens and joining-up and connecting with your horse. I've always been fascinated by it and now I'm learning new techniques and skills to help me better connect with Pepper at the barn. So when the barn that I ride at got a round pen, it was like real-life Heartland Ranch! Just without the added drama and cute cowboys (yet, I'm still not giving up hope on that).

I couldn't wait to get out to the barn and experience the Round Pen. Yesterday, I finally got that chance. I started out in the paddock with Pepper to work on some connection exercises that I learned from my Warwick Schiller videos (and that's another blog because it was a whole learning experience in itself) and, with some input from the knowledgeable and amazing owner of the barn, eventually headed up to the round pen. 

My plan was to just turn Pepper loose and sit on the mounting block and see what she'd do. She hadn't really wanted anything to do with me in the paddock (again, that's another blog so you'll have to come back, bwahaha) so I wasn't expecting her to really hang out with me. No expectations, remember? 

We went into the round pen and I took off Pepper's lead rope, turned away, and went to sit on the mounting block. Pepper took a few laps of the round pen, watched another horse, Frigg, be lunged at the other end of the ring, and snuck a few mouthfuls of grass. I sat and I watched.

And it.was.magnificent. I had never just been with Pepper when she was loose before. She was always either on a lead rope, under saddle, or far off on the other side of the paddock as she'd been a little bit before. Now, it was just me and her, her and me. Together and yet separate. I was able to truly appreciate her beauty and her grace.

I had no expectations. I didn't really know what I was doing in the round pen. I was just kind of playing it by ear. Taking my cues from Pepper. So I sat and I waited. In just a few minutes, Pepper came over and stood by me. She nudged my arm and snuffled at my watch (which she really enjoys snacking on haha). I was sure she'd wander off at any minute. After all, not only was she not on a lead but this was a new experience for her. Surely, she'd want to check it out.

But no. She just stood by me. Bumped my head with her muzzle a few times. Let me pet her. I talked to her, told her what a good girl she was. Took some selfies and sent them to my family with a text that said my view was better than their view - my sister-in-law responded with a truly adorable picture of my nephew. I was forced to concede that she might win that debate.

Not my best angle, haha!

After a few minutes, I decided to just get up and walk away and see what Pepper did. At first, for a minute or so, she just stared at me, like "hey, lady, where'd you go?" Then she moved and walked towards me and came to a stop at my side. I took some steps. She did, too. I stopped. She did, too. I'm pretty sure my grin was quite large at this time. We began to walk around the arena and I took care to match steps with her. She did a "lick and a chew" as Warwick says. It was just a peaceful, relaxing time.

I didn't ask anything of her. She didn't ask anything of me. I had no expectations of her. She had no expectations of me. We were just two beings in the universe, connecting. It was exhilarating.

While I'm sure that I didn't do everything correctly, and we had a bit of an "oh crap I dinged my hoof on the bottom bar of the round pen as I exited and I'm going to die" moment at the end of our time, it was a start. It was a beautiful beginning. Because sure, riding is great. I enjoy it as much as the next true equestrian. But it sure isn't all that there is.

Being with my horse, present with her in the moment, staring out at God's amazing creation, - not only the beautiful mare in front of me who trusts me with her hoof (see previous post) but also the brilliantly changing leaves, the wind whistling gently in my ear - just being still, it reminds me that life is good. 

Life is good.

Isn't Trust Wonderful?

All the trust from one little hoof-picking session!

I've become an avid follower of Warwick Schiller lately. I really like listening to his videos and learning all sorts of amazing things. And so when he said something on a video I watched about trust, it really hit me and made me think. 

Warwick was talking about trust. He said that horses are naturally "flight" creatures. In a panicky situation, they're gonna run, 90% of the time. But, when a human is picking out a horse's hoof, that horse is literally unable to run or walk or move at all while their hoof is being held up in the air.

That's trust.

That's your horse, listening to you ask for their hoof (and they don't really know why because they don't really care about clean hooves) and readily picking that hoof up and giving it to their person. They're trusting you. They're trusting, 100%, that if something happens, you will protect them. You are watching out for them. 

So when your horse lets you pick up his or her hoof, they are essentially saying "I am not concerned about needing to run for safety because I am trusting that you will look out for me and protect me and that you have my best interests at heart." 

How amazing is that? How powerful and cool is it to have that much trust placed in you? 

On Saturday, I went to ride Pepper for the first time after watching this Warwick video and hearing about the trust and the hoof scenario. When I asked her to give me her hoof, she picked it right up and, having this new insight now, I marveled at the trust she was putting in me. 

But I also thought about what it means for me, on my end. If Pepper is putting her trust in me, what am I to do with that trust? I could take that trust and force her to do what I want. The owner of the barn said that sometimes people use that trust, that picking up of the hoof, to break a horse. To force them to bend to your will.

That's not me, that's not my relationship with Pepper, and that's not at all the type of connection and trust bonds that are forged at my barn. 

Pepper is putting her trust in me. That's a commitment and a bond that I am accepting from her and being respectful of. The trust she is giving me is something I need to respect and give back to her ten-fold. It's the start of a relationship, a connection. It may be something as simple as picking a hoof up to clean it out but if you really think about it, it's a sign of so much more.

I've earned Pepper's trust, at least in a basic sense. Now, it's time to deserve that trust.

Introducing Pepper and the Start of This Wonderful Journey

Pepper and myself!

Welcome to my new blog. I've not been very good with blogs in the past but I am really excited for this one because this time, it's not about putting out 'x' number of posts a week or using the right buzz words to get people's attention and build a platform. There's no end goal in sight, no expectations.

No expectations.

You'll read that a lot in this blog. It's something that I'm learning to be okay with and something that I hope to inspire others to be okay with, too. But that comes later. 

First, we got to get the "get to know you's" out of the way. The reason why you should be reading this blog and not binge-watching the newest season of The Rookie. So before we embark on the journey, before we saddle up and ride (this is a horse-based blog, after all - you'll find the horse references are pretty much required), let me give you a glimpse into the two characters who are going to be on this journey. First, let me show you who I am so that you can connect with me as I go through my journey and perhaps that will, in turn, help you on yours.

This is my official headshot. I don't usually look like this!

I'm Michelle. I'm a middle school librarian and I absolutely love my job. Some days, it can be exhausting and overwhelming but, overall, it's spectacular and amazing. My students make me laugh and I love connecting with them on our new favorite books.

Outside of school, I'm definitely an introvert. I have few close friends and, while I come across as outgoing and vivacious at school, this is not me at home. I was never outgoing in college and I'm not now. I don't enjoy meeting new people or being in large crowds. Lately, I've even been anxious about going to a new church that I really do want to go to - all because I don't like having to greet people and I don't like talking to strangers. I would say I have social anxiety. I also have generalized anxiety in that I worry too much about what other people think and I'm very quick to jump on the "worst case scenario" train. Like for real, when I get a call from my principal, there's always a brief moment of "Oh crap, what did I do, I'm fired," even though I know perfectly well I didn't do anything wrong. So I tend to play it safe and stick with what I know. 

I say all this to say that I have a hard time outside of work. The person people see at work is not really who I am at home - though I wish it were sometimes. But I'm working on it - therapy has really helped me and is helping me but I'm really starting a journey to better myself, build my confidence, and embrace life to the fullest because who wants to live with regrets? I say I'm content being on my own and not having a significant other and I am, more or less, but I want to still be able to say that my life has purpose and meaning - even if it's just me and the cat at home. 

So my journey begins. This is the journey that I am going to take you on with me. But - before we can do that, you have to meet the other character on this journey.

Pepper doing what she does best - eating grass!

Her name is Pepper. She is a mare (a girl, for those of you not versed in horse lingo) and she is a stocky, little Appaloosa Pony  of the Americas. Technically, she's a varnished chestnut POA. She's got a scruffy little mane and a white horizontal bar across her muzzle - possibly an old scar. 

She is a lesson horse. She's a school pony. She's not some fancy show horse or hunter jumper or racehorse. She's not a cute little Shetland or regal Thoroughbred. She doesn't have a glossy chestnut coat or a gorgeous, flowing mane.

But that's okay. Because on this journey that I'm taking, she is pushing me and testing me and connecting with me. She's Pepper. And to really understand the journey, you have to understand where we both started. So I hope you'll bear with me a bit more. I promise all my blog posts won't be this long (but if they are, you won't care because I'm such a good writer) so journey on with me on this one. 

I rode horses in high school and loved it. This past spring (in 2021), I quit my job at the animal shelter (and it did not end the way I wanted it to). I had worked/volunteered there every Saturday for 8 years and now I didn't have that commitment. At first, it was great but I knew that I wanted to get into something new. Why not go back to horses? So I did. I found a local stable that talked about horses and mental health and healing on their website and I decided to give it a shot. 

After the first Welcome Workshop, I was hooked. This was the place I wanted to be. So I began weekly lessons. I rode a variety of horses - Moose, Julian, Teo, and Choo - and just enjoyed being back in the saddle. Getting my bearings again. Then, one day, I showed up and my usual mount was not available so my trainer said "why don't you go with Pepper or Sundance?" So I said, okay, sure and headed over to their stalls. Well, they both had signs on their stalls that said "Don't touch me - I bite." And they both looked angry. I go back to my trainer (who I know knows what she is doing but still) and said, "Um...are you sure about that?" Yeah, yeah, she says and tells me that Pepper would be good but just to go visit each one and see. Well, Sundance was particularly crabby that day so Pepper it was. My trainer had to get her out of the stall the first couple of times because Pepper is quite protective of her space. And let me tell you, Pepper was not an easy ride. She expected things of me. Expected me to use my knees and my legs and not yank on the reins (which luckily I'm not a real yanky type person). And so we began to get to know each other on these special Saturdays.

In Spring of 2022, I had a lesson and Pepper was not her usual self. She had a moment where she tried to throw me off. Luckily, she was unsuccessful but boy, oh boy, was my confidence shaken. I kept riding that day but every little movement left me wondering if she was going to try again. The following weekend, Pepper got spooked in the cross-ties and I was an anxious, nervous wreck. I had to wipe tears away because when I get really anxious, I cry. But I didn't want anyone to see. Still, I knew that I was not up to riding Pepper so we did ground work. And at the end, I gathered my courage and admitted that I was not comfortable on Pepper and needed to take a break from her. I needed to regain my confidence. 

And my instructor understood. There was no push to "work through it" or "it'll get better if you keep trying." No, she heard me and she valued my opinion and she put me on Max and George until my confidence returned. That is something I love about my stables - the human is worth listening to. I rode Max and George for several weeks and, while we didn't do anything more than walk, I relaxed, relearned, and refocused.

Fast forward to the beginning of fall. I finally felt ready to return to riding Pepper. I got back onto her and, while it was difficult at first, I was able to keep my confidence and remain calm. I started to be able to "read" Pepper, to understand when she was overwhelmed, to recognize when she needed to be lunged before riding. We were "gelling" as I like to say.

And so I asked the owner of the barn (whom I admire so so much), for some groundwork exercises I could do. I wanted to work with Pepper on the ground to build a stronger footing so our riding would be better. At first, that is all it was. Just a "means to an end." After all, I'd loved cantering on Teo and really wanted to do that again. Who doesn't want to fly? 

But instead of just giving me some exercises and setting me loose, the owner of the barn opened my eyes to a whole new world and a whole new idea of thinking in the equestrian world. She introduced me to Dr. Susan Fay and her book, Sacred Spaces. She and another instructor showed me how to anchor myself to counter Pepper's moments of insecurity. They taught me the Masterson Method to help Pepper relieve her stress. What's more - I began to dive in and research myself. That's the thing about me - when I get passionate about something new, I am all in, 100%. I want to know it all and do it all.

That brings us to today. My journey into this world of understanding your horse is just beginning but, oh boy, am I excited to see where it takes me. Whereas in the past I might have been frustrated at a lesson where all I did was walk or, goodness gracious, never even saddle up, now I'm using my bi-weekly lessons to just match.steps.with.my.horse. That's it. She grazes and I match my steps to hers when she moves. And I'm here for it. I'm here for all of it.

Because at this barn, I'm connecting with my horse. I'm at ease at the barn. I have no expectations of Pepper and she has none of me. My instructor doesn't have expectations. The barn kittens don't have expectations. My goal when I'm there is to connect with Pepper and form a bond with her. I want to help her be her best self and I know she'll help me too. And as those self-imposed expectations lessen, my anxiety lessens. My depression is nonexistent (I didn't take my anti-depression meds this morning and I.feel.amazing.) I'm seeking a relationship with no expectations and that's something you don't do much in this world. There's always expectations. 

But not here. 

Not with Pepper. 

And so I invite you along on this journey as I learn more about the equine therapy model and as I learn more from the greats like Warwick Schiller, Dr. Susan Fay, Tania Kindersley, and my instructors at the barn. I'm learning not only about horsemanship and equines but I'm learning about myself and how to better myself in this world I'm in. 

I won't be posting regularly. Sometimes, I'll get the writing bug (like I clearly did today) and I'll post more than one post. Sometimes, it might be several weeks between posts. I don't have any expectations for this blog. No one might even read it. ;) And that's okay. But I hope you'll journey with me because I plan to share it all  (the good, the bad, the funny, the ugly) as I take it one.step.at.a.time. 

Won't you match your steps to mine (and Pepper's)?