Anderson Equestrian Center, LLC

16/11/2025

Being a horse girl isn't just a phase. It's not something we "grow out of." It's a way of life, cemented into who we are.

It starts when we're young, with dirt under our nails, wild ponytails, and boots two sizes too big because our moms wanted us to "grow into them." Somewhere between our first grooming lesson and our first fall, something changes.
We stop just riding horses and start being shaped by them.

Horses teach us things no person ever could. They teach us patience, in the way a green c**t makes you earn every ounce of trust, one slow step at a time.
They teach us resilience, when we fall off hard and have to choose whether we get back on, even though we're scared.
They teach us grit, from early mornings and late nights, freezing fingers and blistered hands, all for the love of a creature who doesn't speak but says everything.
They teach us empathy, in their silence.
They teach us humility, in every missed cue.
Every day they remind us we still have more to learn.

To be a horse girl is to grow up knowing that the world doesn't revolve around us, that there's something bigger, more powerful, more honest than ego.
It's to be cheered on by a 1200 pound teammate who can't say your name.
But still knows when your heart is heavy and stands quietly beside you anyway.
It's understanding the kind of love that isn't spoken.

To be a horse girl is to live between mud and magic.
To have calloused hands and a soft heart.
To grow strong, not because we were never broken but because we chose to come back stronger again and again.
We were raised in the barn. We found ourselves in the saddle. And we carry those lessons everywhere we go.

So if we walk a little taller, love a little deeper, work a little harder
It's because horses raised us right.

Credit: Rockstar Reins

15/11/2025

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas which means;

December Demos are coming up for our current students!

Selfies with Santa and a Horse Event will be opened to the public! More information soon. Come check us out!

10/11/2025

Our boys were definitely saints today! The party was a hit!

“Confessions of a Riding School Saint”

Hello, human.
Yes, you — the one still trying to find the correct diagonal.

I’m the riding-school horse you meet once a week. You call me “steady,” “safe,” or, when I don’t immediately burst into extended trot, “lazy.” I’ve carried hundreds like you — some with bouncing enthusiasm, others with a death-grip on the reins and a look that says, “Please, not canter.”

Every rider brings their own style. Some kick like they’re starting a lawnmower. Some perch like a baby giraffe learning ballet. One even tried “natural horsemanship” by whispering at me for twenty minutes. (I admired the effort, but grass would have been more persuasive.)

I do my best to translate. But it’s tricky when one person wants me to go forward, the next to collect, and the next to “just feel the rhythm” while clamping both legs and pulling on my face. You’d be confused too.

Sometimes, when the messages get too loud or too mixed, I tune out. You call it “lazy.” I call it “self-preservation.” You see, my job isn’t easy — I must keep everyone safe while pretending your seat bones aren’t trying to send Morse code in three languages at once.

I’ve met every training philosophy going: “forward fixes everything,” “never use the leg,” “ride from the seat,” and my favorite — “just sit deeper!” (Usually shouted as the rider performs a mid-arena levitation.)

But I’ve also met kindness. The quiet rider who remembers to breathe, softens their hand, and says “good” when I try. That’s when I lift my back, stretch my neck, and remember what partnership feels like.

I don’t care about levels or ribbons. I care that you try to understand me. That you see me not as a piece of gym equipment but as a partner — one who has to process your nerves, your posture, and your Spotify playlist of contradictory aids.

So before you call a horse lazy, ask yourself: am I clear? Calm? Consistent?
Because the truth is, I’m not stubborn — I’m exhausted from reading mixed signals.

If you listen, I’ll listen. If you work on you, I’ll meet you halfway — maybe even with a flying change if I’m feeling fancy.

After all, I’m not just your ride. I’m your mirror, your teacher, and occasionally, your unpaid therapist.
Now, pat me. I’ve earned it.

Author: Gary A Diplock

28/10/2025

Central States Fall Classic— Always one of our favorite shows! These teams sure brought their all in a number of ways. We left feeling super pumped for next season!!❤️❤️

Thanks to everyone who helped make the weekend possible.

27/10/2025

We had a little bit of fun this weekend. (More pictures to come soon!)

26/10/2025

Excited for another day of spooky good rides! (It doesn’t get more Halloween than this, with the rain coming down.)

25/10/2025

All set up and ready to “ride like they mean it”! You got this, girls!

21/10/2025

Back to the Barn Spooktacular 2025 did not disappoint! 🕸️🎃

14/10/2025

We were thrilled to have the opportunity this past weekend to capture on camera the love between our students and our wonderful lesson horses! ❤️

Special thanks to Allie Layos for taking these.

27/09/2025

What a beautiful day for Pumpkins and Ponies! We felt privileged to have Orange guide us with the drawing/painting. Special thanks to Erika for assisting with the festivities.