A few weeks ago I uncovered a external hard drive from my freshman year of college onto which I downloaded the majority of my files after my longtime computer had died.
What I found, made my heart so very, very happy. So many pictures of me loving horses, working with horses, and even a few rare clips of me actually riding horses. These memories made me tear up, and I cannot wait to share some of these stories with ya’ll as I take a trip down memory lane.
But the thing that stuck me the most was how much I was reminded of why I ride. Why I am involved with horses. It is not an easy sport. It is not easy to be a mom, a career woman, a wife and still sneak out for rides. The guilt can be suffocating. Sometimes driving back from the barn I’m lost in frustration over the fact that I’ve been so stressed over time for everything that I forgot to actually enjoy the horses and the ride. Then I feel stupid. And what am I really doing anyway? No immediate goals, and no fantastic prospects, I still battle the feeling of being lost in the mix.
And then I saw these pictures of 15, 16, 17 year old me.
Old/younger me would kick my ass for not loving every second. Back then I was working my butt off, mucking stalls, chasing lesson ponies, watering rings, doing whatever was shouted at me–all for the chance to just be around these animals, let alone get to ride them. I was grateful for every moment.
Seeing these pictures reminded me that while I may not be the best rider, I might not get to ride whenever I want, but horses are still in my heart. Nothing is going to change that. That feels good.