Horses, Always

Horse shows were woven into my upbringing so early that they feel less like something I did and more like something I lived inside of. I met people when I was five years old that I still know today, relationships that have evolved and softened and deepened over time, even as the structure of the horse show itself has remained remarkably unchanged, the same long days, the same early mornings, the same grit and discipline, the same quiet respect for the work and the talent of these extraordinary animals.

There is something timeless about a horse show. Generations of horses come through the arena, one after another, each carrying its own story, its own training, its own partnership, and watching them move is a reminder of how little true excellence ever needs to change. I love standing at the rail, watching friends succeed, feeling the familiar swell of pride and nostalgia, remembering the many versions of myself that grew up in that world, different ages, different seasons, different understandings…while the horses themselves remained constant, incredible in every era.

I showed for a short time, and I loved it deeply. Traveling on the road with my Dad, moving from show to show, state to state, our relationship shifted into something I never anticipated, stronger, steadier, more mutual, built on shared experience and long hours and quiet understanding. Horses have a way of bringing people together like that, of stripping things down to what matters, and that has always been one of the things I love most about them.

That world never really leaves you. Horses and horse shows continue to appear in my life as a constant, something steady and grounding, and I fully intend to raise my boys within it, around the smell of hay and leather, the sound of hooves, the patience and respect that horses demand and teach so effortlessly. These animals ask for presence, consistency, humility, and they give back something profound in return.

This month, a show comes to town at one of my favorite venues, a place that feels like an extension of everything I love about this world. Somewhere you can eat, watch, and linger, where the food is good, the atmosphere welcoming, the setting family-friendly, and close enough that it feels woven into the rhythm of our lives rather than something we have to reach for. It is the kind of place where children can roam, conversations unfold easily, and the arena remains at the center of it all.

Though horses will always be part of my life, I still hope that one day I will show again. It is not easy when you have young children, my focus is so deeply on them that I know, right now, I couldn’t give horses the time, attention, and mental space they deserve. Horses require everything of you, and half-commitment simply doesn’t work. For now, I take what I can get, and that is enough.

So I stand at the rail with my boys, cheering on my Dad as he shows his horses, watching through their eyes as well as my own, feeling the continuity of it all, past, present, and future layered together. I may be an amateur in some areas of life, still learning and figuring things out, but when it comes to horses, this world is etched into me. It is a language I speak fluently, one I will always understand, and one I am grateful to keep passing on.