05/08/2025
“Love Isn’t Enough: Why Letting Your Horse Walk All Over You Isn’t Noble—It’s Neglect”
Let’s get one thing straight:
Loving your horse doesn’t make you a good horseperson.
It makes you… a person who loves horses.
And that’s a great place to start.
But love without leadership?
That’s just chaos in a halter.
Your Horse Doesn’t Need a Best Friend. They Need a Guide.
They don’t need you to whisper sweet nothings while they back their haunches into your ribs.
They don’t need cupcakes, kisses, or ten minutes of you crying into their mane about how “energy work is hard when you’re an empath.”
They need boundaries.
And no — boundaries are not “abuse.”
Telling a 1,200-pound flight animal, “Hey, don’t trample me” is not dominance. It’s self-preservation.
Let’s Talk About That Flag You Hate So Much.
No, it’s not a weapon.
No, it doesn’t “scare them into submission.”
It’s a tool — like your reins, your tone of voice, your timing.
And like all tools, it’s only as harmful as the hands that wield it.
You don’t build trust by never saying no.
You build trust by showing up with clarity, fairness, and the courage to guide your horse through discomfort without falling apart yourself.
Because here’s the kicker:
Horses Crave Leadership.
They don’t want a roommate.
They want to know who’s steering the ship when the wind picks up.
And if that’s not you?
They’ll decide it’s them — and that doesn’t end well for anyone.
Barbaric Isn’t Boundaries. Barbaric Is Letting a Horse Live in Confusion.
Letting your horse:
• Bite you because “they were just playing”
• Kick at the farrier because “they had a bad day”
• Drag you to the grass because “it’s natural for them to graze”
Isn’t love.
It’s enabling.
And enabling a horse to feel powerful in their anxiety is not compassion — it’s cruelty dressed in softness.
Pressure Isn’t the Enemy. Unclear Expectations Are.
You’re not protecting your horse from trauma by avoiding pressure.
You’re ensuring they never learn to handle it.
Which means the first time the world does apply pressure — a vet, a trailer, a gate they don’t want to go through — they fall apart.
Because you didn’t teach them how to cope.
You taught them they never had to.
Let’s Be Honest: You’re Not Being Gentle. You’re Being Afraid.
Afraid they’ll stop liking you if you set a boundary.
Afraid you’ll break their spirit if you redirect them.
Afraid of being seen as “harsh” if you step up and train.
But horses don’t fear firmness.
They fear inconsistency.
They don’t lose trust when you say, “Don’t come into my space.”
They lose trust when you say nothing — until you explode, or freeze, or call them dangerous after three years of never saying no.
Soft Hands Still Hold the Line.
True softness isn’t weakness.
It’s calm, clear, and confident.
It’s knowing when to apply pressure and — here’s the art — when to release.
And release isn’t a reward for doing nothing.
It’s the moment you say:
“Yes. That’s the right answer. You’re doing well.”
So What’s the Goal?
Not control. Not dominance.
Not never saying no.
Clarity. Safety. Partnership.
The kind of relationship where your horse knows:
• Where they stand
• What the rules are
• That you’ll show up steady, not sentimental
Because your horse deserves more than just love.
They deserve to be understood.
To be guided.
To be safe in a world that doesn’t bend to their every whim.
Final Thought:
If you’re still convinced that boundaries are cruel and discipline is domination, ask yourself this:
Do I love this horse enough to help them succeed in a human world?
Because if the answer is yes?
Then it’s time to stop whispering “I love you” and start saying, “I’ve got you.”
That’s leadership.
That’s trust.
That’s love — the kind that holds up under pressure.
The kind that actually helps the horse.
