Be mindful of what you assume—there’s always more beneath the surface

Recently I shared a video of me spending time with Oliver. In it, I touched briefly on the idea of reality vs. what we see on social media. Afterwards, I received so many kind and supportive messages—especially around the vulnerability of naming something we don’t often talk about.

Because the truth is… nervousness around horses is still a bit of a quiet, almost “taboo” topic. And yet, —I don’t think I’ve ever met a horse person who hasn’t felt it at some point. Whether you’re experienced, brand new, or have spent most of your life in the saddle… we’ve all had that moment where something in your body goes, “okay, holy shit… this is real.” And not because we’re doing something wrong, but because somewhere deep down, we understand what we’re working with.

Horses are powerful, graceful creatures. They’re fast, sensitive, and incredibly intune. And I don’t see having that awareness of their abilities as weakness… I see it as respect.

And for me, from a more grounded perspective, it’s less about trying to eliminate the feeling of nervousness and more about learning how to meet it. To notice what’s happening in my body without making it mean something about my ability and to come back to my breath, my presence, and my connection. Because control was never really the goal. It should never be the goal.

Relationship is.

And when we stop judging the feeling of fear and nervousness…we actually create more space for calm, clarity, and trust to come in. And it then becomes less about never feeling it and more about how quickly we can come back to ourselves.

Oliver is one of my favourite souls. He came into our lives at a time when the Universe knew I needed him. And when the world was going to need him. He is a unique and brilliant little soul with clear boundaries and a level of confidence and unconditional love that is unmatched. And all of that magic, bundled up into a large and strong body have created the perfect opportunities to experience moments of personal trigger. Because the truth is that confident horses challenge me in a way flight horses do not. And I didn’t come to that realization until I was in Texas working with Patrick, Avery and their team.

In a moment that should have been simple and familiar, while working with two beautiful horses who were kind, present and full of energy, my body suddenly froze. And just like that, I was taken back to an experience from years ago.

It had been an ordinary situation—one I’d been in many times before—but in a split second, it shifted. It was a moment I knew I was being nudged by Spirit to become hyper-aware of my surroundings. And as a result of that nudge, I narrowly escaped being clipped in the back of the head by a young horse rearing up behind me. To say the moment shook me would be an understatement.

In the end, I came out unscathed - physically. But mentally and emotionally, that moment settled into my body—into my nervous system— and over time, I’ve noticed how it can resurface in quiet, unexpected ways.

That moment, and the reality of what my body will sometimes experience as a result of it, is not something I have ever shared publicly. Often I post videos where most will see a comfortable horse person moving through the motions of working with our horses. But what you don’t see beneath the surface are the occasional triggers being poked within my nervous system. My body remembers more than I often choose to show, and Oliver is a regular reminder for me of how important it is to heal that vulnerable wound. And to be honest and transparent about it.

Working with horses can completely rewire your nervous system and often I find myself carrying forward what they felt in a session, even after they no longer feel it. Compiled with my own unhealed moments - it can often create a heightened sense of alertness in my body—even when everything around me is calm.

Moments such as the one I shared with Oliver, are where I get to practice regulation. Not perfection - but a returning to myself—again and again. Because the truth is that presence is something I am continually working on, not something I always have. And confident horses like him challenge me in ways that place me in the space where genuine and authentic healing happens. They are moments when his big energy meets my sensitive system and a conversation of love happens beneath the stillness everyone sees.

Horses are often holding more than we can see, and so am I.

So I hope this message reminds you to soften your assumptions—of others, and of yourself—and to meet what’s beneath the surface with a little more awareness, and a lot more compassion.