What Horses Taught Me About Life, Discipline, and Growth
This is Part Two of my horse journey. You can find Part One here.
I’ve been riding horses for so long, and I’ve been really self-reflective over the past year, trying to get my thoughts about what horses taught me in some semblance of order.
The Observer
I’ve always been an observer. Something that I think came naturally to me. I started journaling when I was 12, and, besides getting more erratic as life gets busier, it is a consistent habit I try to maintain. I became a chronicler and a writer, and that’s the lens through which I interact with the world.
It’s a common phrase that I utter when asked how I am the way I am, and after lots of deep diving and self-reflection, my answer is always this: It’s because of horses.
When working with animals, but horses in particular, they open your eyes to a whole different language. The non-verbal language. Body language. I started riding and interacting with horses at the age of 7, before peer pressure and social pressures really had time to take root. Horses framed everything that I do.
Body language is key.
Everything means something, and it’s up to us to interpret it. Ears back, slight shifting of their weight. Facial expressions, softness in their eye. This all means something to riders, and probably a whole lot of nothing to non-equestrians.
But learning how to read that, by the age of 8, even unconsciously, means that I’m doing that in almost all situations. I think I do it without even registering it now, as an adult. But I’m almost hyper-aware of tone of voice, facial expressions, body language, and how people come across. Whether they’re sincere or not. And an observer trait I’ve noticed in myself is the ability to see the patterns people have. I write it all down (especially when I was younger). Documenting things almost exactly as they happened. Who said what, how it was said, how it was interpreted, what I think they actually meant.
One of my major strengths and weaknesses is that I can generally look at anything objectively, see all sides of the story, and understand that they might have done that for the reason we know of, but there are lots of things we don’t know about people to give them that grace. But, I am also a big, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you,” and I do not give you a chance to fool me thrice. And once I’ve given that chance, I might forgive, but I do not forget.
You Fall Off, You Get Back On
At 7, I found a passion, a hobby, a love, a vocation in horses. I look at my kids at the same ages, Eli just turning 7 and entering grade 2, and I see myself. Fully committed to the sport of horses. I was in weekly lessons, learning everything I could about them. Of course, I was limited to what my parents would allow me, so at 7, I was blessed to be a part of a Friday night “Pony Club”, where I’d be at the barn for 3 hours, learning how to ride, groom, and have a theory lesson every week.
By the time I started journaling in Grade 7 (12yo), when the peer pressures really started to squeeze, I’d been riding for 5 years. I’d been immersed in a world of frustration, grit, determination, hardship, and silent cues that you heeded quickly, otherwise you’d end up in the dirt. And even if you did heed them, chances are you still ended up in the dirt. I remember that over my 4 years in the hunter/jumper world, I think I fell off almost every lesson, especially in the winter.
But the most important lesson learned there? You fall off, you get right back on. You never want to end on a bad note. If you can, get back on the horse, and end with you on.
Why Rejection Never Scared Me
Horses taught me to expect rejection. There are a LOT of little wins. But if I’m being honest? Horses are more about no’s than yeses, almost from the beginning.
They don’t care if it’s a major competition. Horses don’t care that you’re under a time crunch or have other obligations. They will say no over and over again, and you’ll be so grateful and feel blessed when they finally say yes.
So I learned very early that no was not the end of the world. No was a learning opportunity—just information. A “no” means that I can give my time to someone or something else.
So it’s no surprise I don’t play games. I love a straightforward answer. “Do you like me? Wanna date? No? Cool, I’ll see you in English.” I probably wasn’t that cool about it, but rejections never felt world-ending. I had horses waiting for me.
It was kind of a running joke for my friends that all my horses had boy names, so it sounded like I had a million boyfriends. Who needs a boyfriend when I have so many sources of unconditional love?
But I’ve taken that lesson about rejection and applied it to every instance in my life.
I always tell myself, the worst thing they can say is no, and I’m still in the same place. And they have a 50% chance of saying yes. How would my life have turned out if I hadn’t asked the question? Taken the chance?
Horses Taught Me Emotional Regulation
Horses also strengthened my emotional control. This one is a little harder to know, but I do feel like I was someone who felt deeply, but I don’t leak my emotions, so I come across as cold or unempathetic. Horses made that vault even tighter. You can’t show up angry, upset, or even overly excited without it affecting your horse. Horses will mirror your emotions and give them back 10x because they’re at least 10x bigger than you. So, you take a deep breath.
You acknowledge the emotion you are feeling, and you let it go, at least for the 2 hours that you are around your horse. You let the repetitive nature of grooming and tacking take over, and you focus on the million and one things that you need to do to stay on. And for me, when I’m riding, the world seems to disappear, and it’s just me and whatever goal I’m working towards with my horse. Sometimes it’s playing around, sometimes it’s serious show preparation. But it’s always an escape from the day-to-day minutiae.
But this means that while everyone around me in my teens was spilling drama everywhere, I was not. I was and can compartmentalize very easily: there’s a time to push through, and there will be time to have a menty-b later.
There are plenty of memories of me as a teen, working towards my levels and crying while riding.
And I have plenty of memories of this as an adult. It was about 10 years ago when I was riding in Rhegan White’s clinic on the horse that I was still learning. And she made me WORK for it. I spent a good portion of my first year riding her stuck in the corner of the arena. Or in the middle. Doing anything but going forward in a straight line.
So at this clinic, where I was already nervous, I could NOT get her to do what I wanted, and I started crying, and the clinician was SO worried. And I remember crying, laughing a little, and saying don’t mind me, I cry when I’m frustrated. And we continued working at it until I was able to get a perfect circle, and she was moving so beautifully. This is not an incident relegated to my younger self. Although now, as a mom, I’m probably more likely to get on with it and cry later (if at all).
Horses Gave Me A Life Outside of School
My life existed outside of school, and that may have been one of the greatest gifts horses gave me. Girls are going crazy over boys, trying to fit in with their peers and stressing about who hung out with whom over the summer. I was there, and I fit in with everyone, but I also had horses. I was gone every weekend in the summer at a horse show from 14 to 18, trying to be at the barn as much as I possibly could be. Between working at the barn, I was also at my coach’s house for weeks at a time, riding, showing, and coaching.
Even during the week, I’d be at the barn at least 2 nights a week (when I was part leasing), 1 night minimum.
So I would come home from school, work on homework, read books, be at the barn, and goof around on MSN.
Now, this isn’t to say that I wasn’t involved in any of the regular high school drama. It just didn’t shape me as a person, because I was already solidly formed. I knew I was going to university for horses (and I did!). I had a plan plotted out, and I followed it from high school through college and beyond (it changed as I aged, but the gist was the same).
Of course, when I was a teen, there were definitely situations that felt like life or death, but looking back, I can see with the clarity of an adult. But I think the biggest thing was that my life existed outside of school. I was at school because I had to be. I had friends, and I was friendly with everyone.
It may have confused a lot of people because I enjoy talking to people. But I had very distinct likes and hobbies, and I wasn’t afraid to pursue them because they weren’t “cool”.
The Lessons I Still Carry Today
Horses taught me about rejection, patience, determination, emotional regulation, and resilience. But some of the hardest lessons came much later. More than anything, horses gave me an identity that existed independently of everyone else’s opinion of me.
The lessons about grief, loss, betrayal, and learning to open your heart again. Those lessons deserve a story of their own.
J x