I remember one afternoon when I was ten years old, I took all of my horse stuff and put it in a box. I brought it down stairs and threw it on the ground in front of my mother. I was done looking at posters and pictures from horse camp everyday, when I wasn't allowed to ride more than one week a year. I looked at a horse and I wanted to know every aspect of that animal. My parents had always insisted that horses were too much money and not worth the time or resources. In my desperate attempt to show just how much my hope had been crushed of ever becoming a horseman, I shoved the box down. I told my mother I was done wanting anything to do with a horse, because I could no longer hope for something that was never going to happen.
Now, about ten years later, I can look back and envy that girl I once was. Ten years later I am still looking for hope, and so much more aware of how horses were never the answer to hope. The difference between that girl all those years ago and who I am today is simply the determination to master a skill. Just riding a horse brought so much fulfillment back then. I wanted to understand a horse more than I desired to breathe. Quite literally, actually. For a few months I contemplated taking my life when I could no longer ride. Today I look at a horse and think how crazy it is that we, as humans, build societies, structures, and parks to train and celebrate this animal. An animal that is infamous because it allows humans to crawl on its back and parade it around. When I look back over the past couple of years I can't seem to find what exactly made me loose my love for horses. It started with a horse named Duncan, I know that much for sure. It was initially my fear and inability to ride Duncan that made me so distraught. That was both the best and worst thing to happen to me. The best part is the kind of horsemanship and lifestyle the next phase of my horse career brought me to. It has also been a constant mix up of a traditional dressage riding style, and a horsemanship approach. In the world around me, there is no mixing them. There is no trainer to go to that I understands both and can teach me. The best I can do is try variety of approaches and mix it all together. However, I am quickly figuring out that it is impossible to learn that way. I have a fear of treating a horse the way I used to. I understand so much more of how the horse works now that I no longer feel comfortable shoving its head down with a device. But I also have little desire to be on a ranch or roping cattle. It was so much simpler when allI had to do was show up to a weekly lesson and learn how to ride a movement. Now I have the responsibility to the horse to do what is best for them. Only now, I have no hope that I can deliver on that.
I no longer love a horse like I did when I was ten. I'm lucky to even enjoy a ride on one these days. It does not matter the movement or ability of the horse, or the speed of the gallop. They are not the fulfillment I look for anymore. I wish so deeply that they were, but my heart is no longer in it. The funny thing is that I have spent the last ten years forcing myself to not let my emotions ride the horse. I've fought back anger when a horse didn't do what I wanted, and I've minimized the fear I feel when one takes off. Now that I no longer love the animal I built my life around, I have the ability to just keep on riding. Not letting my dissatisfaction rule how I treat or train a horse. Instead my fear is now in two things: the realization that I may never feel the same about the horse again, and the horror of what will come if I do leave this lifestyle and regret it every day after.
