I stopped riding to learn real horsemanship

For a while, riding stopped being the center of my relationship with my horse. There’s so much backstory as to why, but to make it short for 90 days I didn’t ride my horse.

1. I learned to pay attention

I started experimenting with consent and giving my horse more of a say in what we did together. I was flabbergasted by how many times he had clearly told me “no”—and how often I had missed it, dismissed it, or kept going anyway.

That was hard to admit. But learning to notice his signals changed the way I showed up for him. I began to understand that listening means more than watching for the biggest reaction. It means paying attention to the small cues, too.

2. I learned to regulate myself

Without the pressure to ride, exercise, or accomplish something every time I went to the farm, I took a lot of stress out of my own body. I could simply enjoy being there and spending time with horses.

I hadn’t realized how much pressure I was carrying—pressure from my own expectations and from worrying about what other people might think. That stress didn’t stay inside me. It affected the energy I brought to my horse, too.

I’m still working on this. I want our time together to feel as positive and comfortable as possible for both of us.

3. I found a deeper connection

When I slowed down, my horse connected with me in ways I once thought were out of reach. The moments we shared felt more genuine because they weren’t always leading toward a ride or a task. I personally think it’s moments people can’t even dream of…because the horse started and initiated it.

I began to see how much connection can grow when a horse has room to choose to be with you.

4. I saw how happy he could be

I still haven’t seen my horse as happy and content as he was when he knew I wasn’t there to ride.

That sounds ridiculous, and it can make me feel like a terrible person to say out loud. I do think he enjoys doing things with me. I think he enjoys having a job, to a certain extent. But I also had to be honest: my stress and the pressure I put on myself were affecting him.

Seeing how relaxed he could be when riding wasn’t the expectation was a truth I needed to face. It changed me forever; it broke my heart, but I needed to see it.

5. I learned to trust him to tell me what he needs

I stopped deciding in advance what every interaction was supposed to look like. Maybe he wants to be groomed differently today. Maybe he’d like to go for a walk. Maybe he’d rather stand together for a while.

Now that I’m more emotionally settled—and paying closer attention—I can notice those cues and respond to them. If he starts wandering toward the path, I can be curious about whether he wants to walk. If he shifts or moves away during grooming, I can adjust.

Horses are such a gift. We shouldn’t take them for granted, and we shouldn’t assume that riding is the only way to build a meaningful relationship with them.

It took me five years to truly understand that my relationship with my horse needed to come first. Now we’re starting down a fresh path, with so much more ahead of us.

I still ride. It just isn’t the measure of our relationship anymore. And I cannot express how much happier I am—and how much happier he seems—because of that.

I hope this resonated with you; it’s a hard space to be in.

The horse world can be brutal. As always, my email is open if you ever need a supportive hand.

(my baby boy, Perry!)