12/12/2025
A Letter From Your Horse
Dear Human,
I don’t understand the details of your day, but I notice how it sits on you. I read your tension the way humans read words. So when you arrive, I take in the shape of your breathing, the pace of your steps, and the way you carry your weight.
Sometimes you come to me holding more than you realise. Your shoulders lift. Your movements tighten. Your mind races ahead of your body. When that happens, I slow down. I might stand quietly or graze nearby. That isn’t distance. It is my way of giving you space to settle without pressure.
When you let out a breath, even a small one, I often let one out too. When you pause, I feel the whole environment soften. When you steady your hands or drop your shoulders, my body responds. This is not me fixing you. It is simply what herd animals do. We match what is safe and predictable.
You never need to hide how you feel around me. You don’t need to be brave or upbeat or “sorted.” I am not keeping score. I’m only looking for cues that tell me you are present, that you see me, that your attention is here rather than pulled away by something invisible.
When you offer that, even gently, I relax. And in that moment, there is a shared ease. Quiet, ordinary, but real.
So when you walk towards me carrying the heaviness of being human, remember this:
I respond to the moment, not the mistakes. I don’t hold your past against you, and I don’t expect you to arrive perfect. I only need you to arrive.
Yours,
The Horse Who Stands With You
Equimotional - Trauma-Informed Training & Resource Hub
