Horses are my Therapy, A Follow Up

Lauren is a fantastic human and blogger who wrote the Plaid Horse post, "Horses Can't Be Our Only Therapy". It's good. You should read it.

a world in contrast

I wanted to append her thoughts just a little bit because they're a topic that strikes very close to home for me. 

I loathe the "horses are my therapy" sentiment. 

Loathe. 

beyond side eye

Horses are amazing. Many things to many people. I've invested years of my life into them and I will 100% tell you they (and the people I met through them) shaped me into the person I am today and I will forever be grateful for that. 

reflection

However. 

I'm going to be very personal for a minute and tell you I was raised in a shitty environment where there were a lot of unhealthy expectations and that I was never allowed to think for myself or have an emotion or respond to anything and as a very young human, I learned to choke everything down. By the time I turned 18, I literally didn't have emotional responses to anything. Ever. If that sounds weird AF, it fucking is. 

smoosh weird

You know why I kept that fucking hellmare for so long?

Because I literally didn't know how to feel fear. Couldn't process it. Didn't have a space in my head for it. 

It took three deeply unhealthy years of me trying everything and doing everything and being unable to process a goddamn basic concept like fear before I was able to be like "ho shit the reason my stomach feels weird every time I go to get on this animal is an emotion called FEAR and that is a normal and rational response to being wildly overhorsed and hey, it's an important red flag that your brain is trying to keep you from actually dying". 

hellmare glory

If that sounds weird AF, it fucking is. 

And if you think it might have been smarter/safer/cheaper to address all that in the confines of a therapist's office, you're probably right. If you think it was unfair to drag a horse along with me through that particular puddle of shit, you're also right.

when does this story get a zb?

I'd like to say the story has a happy ending there, right? I learned that fear is a thing and that life is better without fear and that fear means you might actually die and you should pay attention when you feel fear. And then I met Cuna. And everything was great.

From him, I learned another super-elementary concept: love. For the first time in my life, there was someone I couldn't wait to see. Wanted to be with all the time. This connection that no one else got but it was just the two of us against the world and I never cared that he was this goofy old red horse and he never cared that I was this weirdly damaged oddball who desperately tried to look normal. 

<3

As you all know, the next step after that was learning to lose him. 

And then Courage, with every cheesy implication you can think of. I think the most important thing I learned from him was that no matter how far down I thought I'd stuffed my emotions and how hidden every response was, I still had to acknowledge them. They still mattered. 

it was a complicated relationship

I still fucking mattered. 

It didn't matter one iota if no other human on the face of the planet knew I was a fucking wreck who was going through hell. 

He knew. 

He called me on it. 

It was zero fun. Do not recommend.

If that sounds weird AF, it fucking is.  

and yet we still looked magical

Because see. I vividly remember showing up to ride because y'know horses are therapy or whatever bullshit. The moment I stepped out of the car, he knew what was up. 

I literally couldn't catch him in his stall. 

IN HIS STALL. 

Standing there. Crying. Because the one thing that was supposed to be "my therapy", the "fun thing" in my life, was no fun at all. 

I learned a lot. I learned that I have emotions. That those emotions matter. That sensitive creatures can call us out on those emotions even when humans can't or won't or don't care.

But you know what else I learned?

a better way

Horses have emotions too. They respond to us on a very innate level. It is completely and totally unfair to them to show up and dump our stress and our shit and our negativity into their otherwise placid lives and then blame them for their responses. We are responsible for their well-being, not the other way around. 

If I can't meet my horse in a calm, understanding frame of mind and be in that moment with them, I need to not be there. 

<3

I cringe when I watch people take their shit out on their horses and their dogs and their kids. It bothers me on a very visceral level when I hear people assign intention to an action by an animal. The horse isn't being a jerk. He doesn't care one way or another about your right leg or your left rein or the jump in front of him or whatever stupid bullshit you're blaming him for. 

All the horse is doing is responding to what you don't even know you brought with you. 

this

Some are like Zoe and they're golden through and through and will tolerate a lot more. Some are like Courage and won't. 

It doesn't matter though. 

It's still our responsibility to be better than that. 

We owe it to them. 

baby mare

I spend less time with Zoe on a weekly basis than any other horse I've had. 

Every time I'm with her, I am able to breathe in and breathe out and be part of that moment. 

Not dragging my shit behind me.

Not blaming her for what I brought with me. 

Not taking out on her things she has nothing to do with. 

sunshine and grass

And you know what? 

We're stronger for it. Time spent together, no matter what we're doing, is positive for both of us. 

also bareback dressage

hellomylivia hop: What I Didn't Know I Didn't Know

Olivia started this with one of the coolest blog posts I've read in a while and then Liz pitched in and now I want to give it a go. Here's what I would tell myself as a brand new adult amateur horse owner who just got handed the lead rope to the hellmare and all the things that followed:

aw look how i'm not on her

1) You have no idea what you're getting in to.

I rode as a kid, on lesson horses and half leases here and there. I worked hard and cleaned stalls and did 4H and never had the newest, nicest, or best, but I read everything I could get my hands on, spent every moment I could get at the barn, rode anything anyone would let me, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

best old man horse

2) You have no idea how much you need this.

Horses and horse people have been a driving force for good in my life on so many levels. The people I've met and connections I've made have shaped the life I lead today in more ways than I can count. No matter what was going on in the rest of my life, I was always surrounded by passionate, intelligent, driven women who became role models to me whether they knew it or not.

possibly our best jump lesson ever

3) Even your lowest moments will shape you in positive ways.

When I had my wreck on the hellmare and was too afraid to keep trying but too stupid to quit, I found a community of people to ask hard questions and help me find perspective. When I lost Cuna, I was surrounded by once in a lifetime friends who carried me through dark times I couldn't handle alone. When I had to let go of Courage, I was again among incredible people who helped both of us find a resolution.

and this is how you jump a bank with 3 broken bones
which is apparently a thing i can do

4) The horses are pretty great too.

Every one of them has something to show me and learning to listen and communicate, shape behavior and respond, has been transformative in my life. To me, it's not about the shows and the ribbons and the outfits. Learning to connect and trust another living being is a truly amazing experience and to me it makes the blood, sweat, tears, and dollars all worth it so many times over.

I love how horses can continue to evolve with us. My goals and approach now are completely different than they used to be. I'm more relaxed and more focused. I never expected to be where I am today, but now that I'm here, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Here's to the horses that made it possible.

Eight Years Apparently.

The other day, Teresa and Leah pointed out that my blog archives are kind of... extensive... and I looked to see just how far back they went.

Eight. Eight years since I got my first horse as a newly-married college kid and started blogging for the stated reason of not driving my husband nuts. I was hoping to find some like-minded souls to connect with so I'd have someone to talk to about all things horse.

Since then, I've been through three horses:

Izzy 2009-2012

Cuna 2012-2014

Courage 2013-present

EIGHT (count 'em) barns:

1) first trainer, old barn

2) first trainer, new barn

3) first time on our own

4) second trainer, first barn

4) second trainer, first barn, second horse

5) second trainer second horse, second barn

6) sans trainer, second horse, third barn

7) second horse, final barn

6) third horse, repeat barn #6 (omg baby C!!)

8) third horse, repeat first trainer, brand new barn

I can't count the bridles that have passed through my care or the number of amazing people I've met along the way, both in real life and through the blog. There are lots of things I love about blogging and certain things that drive me crazy. I started the blog to meet new people, and that's definitely happened. Also awesome has been the opportunity to mark our progress through the years. I'm definitely not the same person who started this whole things eight years ago, but I like who I am a lot more now.

sass

Here's to friends and fun and new adventures and dear god let's stop moving barns omg.

The Myth of Forever

I hate the term "forever home". 

One thing that really bothers me is when I see ads for horses "looking for a forever home". 

Even if we ignore the blindingly obvious "why does someone else have to keep a nag forever when you've clearly decided they're not worth it", that transitions on to a bigger problem:

You aren't guaranteed forever.

You see this horse?

so cool

That was a cool horse. I rode her all through highschool. She was batshit crazy and I loved her. I was so, so excited when my first horse as an adult was her baby. I was going to keep that baby forever.

Remember her?

about a half a second before I got rodeo bucked off and broke 3 bones

Yeah well then I wasn't. The mare and I were NOT a fit and keeping her "forever" would only have made both of us miserable. I was scared of her, which meant I wasn't the rider or owner she needed and neither of us was going to improve together.

So I sold her.

And that's one of the easier stories. Possibly even more common in my age group (late twenties) is having a horse, but then having life commitments crop up. Marriage. Home ownership. Children. It's one thing if you can afford it all, but most of us have to make choices and hopefully most people choose their spawn over their livestock. Seems like a pretty serious moral issue and all.

And those scenarios are overlooking things like chronic illness in yourself or a loved one. Bankruptcy. Job transfers. Economic fluctuations. The fact of the matter with horses is that they are a large luxury animal requiring a lot of time and care and money. Lives change and sometimes what we thought would be forever, isn't.

No one's fault. Life happens.

What's more, different people want horses to do different things. I know SO MANY people who have horses with atrocious or borderline-dangerous ground manners that are passed off as "oh, I shouldn't let him, but I don't mind X behavior".

But here's the thing: if something happens to you and horsiekins needs a new home, will that behavior be the thing that ends him up at a low end auction bound for a double decker and Mexico? You think it's cute that he bolts off on the lunge line. Someone else gets scared, he gets passed around, and things go from bad to worse.

A horse's life insurance is its' job. Plain and simple. We as owners have an obligation to our horses to teach them the job they excel in to the best of our abilities SO THAT should the unforeseen happen, the horse isn't reliant on the mercy on strangers.

knew job inside and out

We've all seen those ads--15yo OTTB gelding, hasn't been worked in 5 years, probably not sound, no papers, no training. Do you know where that horse goes?

I do.

There's no guarantee of forever, not for you, and not for your horse. Instead of trying to create more and more ironclad legal documents that are completely unenforceable, it makes more sense to focus on creating a horse that a reasonable person would actually want to keep.

not a jumper, hard to ride. impeccable ground manners, hacks on the buckle.

If you love your horse, give it a damn job.

We Go to a Horseshow Part the Third and Final

Yesterday was a weirdly emo note to leave off on. I was very, very confused. Frustrated. Not angry, not really sad. Just sort of in this weird brain space where nothing felt right or good or bad or anything. I wasn't (and I'm not) mad at Courage. I was just stumped. I couldn't point to things that should have changed. I can't fix it and I can't make a plan, because I don't know what's wrong. Or if anything's wrong. Or if it's normal. Or if it's me. Or if it's him.

I read some articles and talked to one of my favorite hot OTTB experts and window shopped for first level horses, which confirmed that I can't afford them. And then I did what everyone having a weird horsey-crisis should do--go back to the show grounds to crew for a friend.

gotta scratch the itch

The weirdest thing happened.

I saw the hellmare.

And see, I haven't seen her in almost five years. She and I had a hate/hate relationship and after some complications with her sale, I have no contact with her owner. Which is fine. They deserve each other.

So I'd spent the previous 24 hours thinking I needed a warmblood and then I saw the one I used to own and watched her go around. And yeah. She's still gorgeous. And fancy. And all that.

Oh, and she's 100% still evil and I don't miss her for a second. I didn't want to ride her. Or see her. Or pet her. Or anything.

enough about that bitch. let's talk about this guy.

And I guess in a really odd way, that sort of put it in perspective for me.

I can't afford a made horse, which means I have to make my own.

Making my own is going to mean bumps in the road.

The bumps I had with the hellmare made me want to quit riding entirely.

The bumps I have with Courage are confusing and confounding, but he's not trying to kill me.

um plus how cute are we?

 And the more I think about it, the more I'm ok with it. All of it. Courage had to learn to do all the movements in the tests slowly and at home. Now he's learning how to put them all together in the dressage court and it's hard for him. It's going to take time and patience there just like it took time and patience at home. He's still my horse, the one I can't wait to see and enjoy figuring out.

well. most of the time.

We're not brilliant this year. We're not even very good. It hurts my pride to get terrible scores because I know how much better we're capable of, but the only way to prove that is to keep working.

enjoy the journey

One day at a time.

PS does someone want to buy me nice show gloves? Size 8. In case you were thinking that my sad, dead crochet gloves need to go.