03/08/2025
This is so so good. Take some time to read if you get a chance.
“If I have a horse who has scared me—and he continues to scare me—what are our chances of working things out?”
This is a question I am often asked. It leads me to wonder if rather a lot of us aren’t riding scared? While admitting to our fear is honest and healthy, I am going to gently suggest that continuing to live in fear is not.
Longstanding anxiety isn’t good for you and if that isn’t something that matters to your heart, it isn’t great for your horse, either.
When, in the past, I have boldly surmised that such partnerships will probably never entirely get around this fear, I have been roundly chastised.
“We can work on fear management.” “The horse and rider need to find trust.” “Not all deep relationships can be bought.” “Give it time.”
While these statements are all undeniably true, they require an extra something that many of us do not possess. Maybe it’s an ability to ignore the wisdom deep inside us, telling us that we are unsafe. It may be that neither you, nor your horse, are blithe enough to wholly let down your guard around someone who is nervous.
It might be that you don’t have the resources to put yourself into lessons to advance your skills and in so doing, further build your courage. You mightn't be able to afford to put your horse into good, ethical training until the magic happens.
It might be that you don’t have enough actual time, or bravery, or skills, to put into fixing a troubled relationship well enough to allow you to handle this horse without fear... or to get beyond the one bad moment that first put worry into your heart.
None of these things is shameful, I might hasten to point out. They can—and they will—happen to any one of us, if the relationship is wrong and circumstances are right.
Horses, for better or worse, are among the most profound relationships in our lives. Particularly if life has been very hard for us, putting us in troubled human relationships. Horses somehow help us cope with the external demands of life. Many of us have held onto the dream of knowing them, of owning our own horse, since childhood.
We hang so much hope from our horses but the reality, so often, turns out to be something else.
Let’s imagine, for a minute, that this isn’t a human-horse relationship we’re talking about.
Let’s imagine that this same horsewoman (and for simplicity, I’m using the singular title) has found herself in a toxic marriage. Whether from living with a psychological or physical abuser—whether her partner threatens or actually follows through—she is afraid. Yes, there are going to be differences in what motivates or rules the emotions and outbursts of our partner, whether horse or human, but wait.
Past events have shown that she is not safe. No matter how many outsiders tell her that her husband is handsome and talented, she knows that in her gut, she needs to watch out.
To tell this woman that she doesn’t need to be afraid, that she can look forward to happier times if only she does the work, is ludicrous. Most likely, for change to happen—for her to live fear-free—she will have to leave the toxic relationship in order to get counselling. If the abuser is willing, he will have to sign up for serious help with a third party. Only then.
To tell her that she needs to keep this partner because ‘no one else will understand him’, or that ‘love will find a way, if only she tries harder’, is both unkind and erroneous. It sheds light on the uncomfortable fact that when you and I are willing to put up with a dangerous horse—even though his behaviour is due to no fault of his own—we will often accept similar treatment from key people in our lives.
We have maybe forgotten how to uphold our boundaries.
Yes, many horses can learn to regulate themselves and get on with life. Yes, many people can learn to do the same. Where we run into huge roadblocks is that to do this thing together, when both of us are habitually living in fight or flight mode, is a herculean task.
Who can convincingly assume the lead? Who can show the other that it is now safe to go along?
Life experience has taught me that to continue on with the horse who scares us is usually, though not always, futile. This, especially, if this horse has physically hurt us in the past. Again, I am not saying that this horse is at fault, or hopeless. Fear does not need someone to blame, in order to exist.
I wish we could all accept that anxiety does not need to be anyone's fault.
For a rider to gain lost confidence, it most often has to be on a different horse, along with some powerful coaching.
Why the original horse is scary is not really at issue here. In order for him to be in a healthy relationship in the future, he is going to have to find change, notably in the people who handle him.
He will likely require third-party help to ‘get real’. If this horse has somehow learned manipulative and/or dangerous behaviours along the way, such as rearing, bolting, or charging anyone who enters his 'bubble', this moves into special skills territory. This horse likely needs more than a physiological reset, or more active riding in more confident hands.
Whether or not a human couple gets back together is a positive step only if the ‘victim’ is no longer fearful and has a strong say in the decision-making… and only if the ‘abuser’ will no longer offend.
To understand troubled human-to-horse relationships with more clarity, it can really help to imagine these as human-to-human relationships. Please don’t get mired down in the guilt that comes whenever we assign our messy human values to animal personalities.
While I love horses, I also love people. I want them both to live good and happy lives, in harmony and trust.
I don’t believe that people necessarily need to live in silent fear because we are told that horses don’t lie and that they don’t choose to do the wrong things. I simply don’t believe that horses—though they are beautiful, mystical creatures—should be ignored when they look capable of committing bodily harm.
When people and horses show us who they are and what they are thinking of, or struggling with, we should believe them. This is common sense.
When we choose to put our dreams, or our horse’s rights, over our own safety, we have to ask why we’re playing the victim card. It’s an unwaveringly hard question. What is it going to take, for us to actually go and get help? Do we now know only drama in our lives? Do we identity with being unseen and unheard? Have we given up on happiness? Do we feel we are stuck in exactly the relationship we deserve?
When we live with a horse who repeatedly frightens us, we must ask ourselves... why are we choosing fear? It’s a powerful and uncomfortable question to sit with, this International Women's Day.
Photo: Mike McLean.