|not gonna lie this looks really big now|
|i tried so hard to make this happen|
I like my saddles brown with forward flaps and graceful curves. I like my colored poles that fall down.
But here I am three years later, making the transition to full (for now) DQ. While I make no promises about my trajectory as a rider if something were to happen to C, it appears that the next +/- ten years are going to involve a tiny white sandbox and an over-emphasis on out-of-sequence alphabet soup.
|at least i've upped my braid game|
But then we went to our little open show and I had zero compunction about throwing the brown tack back on the beastie to look the part.
It's carried forward, too. My next ride was outside. It was also massively tense (because reasons), and instead of a death grip on the martingale, I felt my hands stay light and giving while my legs draped nicely around Courage's sides. I felt the tread of my iridescent stirrups and I comfortably rode the horse I had in the moment.
I'm not saying I'm some sort of dressage maestro--I most definitely am not. I still tip forward, do funky things with most every body part, and haven't really addressed the sitting-trot-shaped elephant in the room (but I think we're doing another season at first so whatevsies), but apparently my body has finally learned to relax with those long black flaps.
I guess we've found our new home.