08/15/2026
I know this face. I was a horse-crazy teen with zero access to horses and no money and I thought I’d hit the jackpot when my mom got me lessons with a "professional" named Shirley. She was tough, take-charge, and everything I wanted to be as a bullied, out-of-place kid just looking for somewhere to belong. For years, I spent every moment I could at "The Ranch" with Shirley.
Did I have fun? Yes. Did it make me tough and resilient? Absolutely.
But it came with a heavy cost. Shirley’s archaic training methods taught me that a horse acting out was a personal insult requiring harsh physical "consequences." I was also the target of her verbal abuse at times. As a naive kid, it never felt right, but I absorbed the good with the bad. Fear does make a horse comply—until it doesn't.
When I finally got my own horse, Rascal, I brought those toxic habits with me. I was a tragic mix of naive and arrogant, blind to the unfairness of my own handling because I had seen heavy-handed training "work." It has taken me decades to unlearn, unravel, and heal from the things I witnessed and was put through as a teen just desperate to learn.
Like any abusive relationship, I’ve wrestled with the "good times," but you can't unsee the trauma. The horse world today has endless teachers willing to show us better, kinder ways to communicate—for free. All it takes is the willingness to listen.
At 69 years old, if she still hasn't figured out she's wrong, that's a choice, and with our choices in life, sometimes come the consequences 🤷♀️.