There have been quite a few essays written on the benefits of allowing your daughters to grow up riding horses. One of the most recent and eloquent was written by grand prix dressage rider and trainer Lauren Spreiser (“Let Your Daughters Grow up to be Horse Girls”) in her blog on The Chronicle of the Horse. While reading it, I was giving her virtual high fives and promptly shared it on social media. I urge everyone to check it out if you haven’t already.
Her and other’s insights got me thinking. For all the benefits my children have reaped from spending their lives around horses and eventing, there have been plenty of blessings and lessons learned that have come my way as well. Here are just a few:
1. My kids are a lot stronger than I ever gave them credit for. They’ve weathered the crushing disappointments of what can be an unforgiving sport. My oldest daughter Lauren’s first horse trial was at a Full Moon Farm schooling show and she rode Macintosh, our welsh paint cross pony whose primary goals in life at the time were eating grass and cultivating toughness in little girls. I watched helplessly as she got bucked off numerous times on cross-country and got back on him, determined to finish (God bless the XC jump judge who let her!). She did, but then was told a short while later to leave the show jumping ring after her third refusal. Absolutely crushed, my little 8 year-old cried in my arms. She then pulled away, wiped her tears and asked when her next show was. I knew Lauren was hooked for life and also caught a glimpse of the tenacious young woman she would become.
Years later, my younger daughter Brooke had a terrible accident in warmup for the Junior Training division at the June Seneca Valley Pony Club horse trials. Her horse’s neck met her face full force as he took a jump, fracturing it and breaking her nose. She never fell off and our wonderful Indy came quietly down to a halt as he made his way through the rails that scattered beneath him. Despite tremendous pain, Brooke was stoic and steady throughout the ordeal. Refusing a wheel chair, she walked out of the emergency room determined to ride and tackle cross country again. The only tears she shed were when we were told that she needed surgery and couldn’t ride for two months. Brooke was medically cleared to compete that September and her first show was the Area 2 Championships at Morven Park, where they placed 7th at Novice. A special partnership was cemented that day and that fierceness she displayed is one of the reasons why I so admire her.
2. My kids are capable of a selflessness that extends beyond their years. They’ve both displayed this in countless ways – big and small. Three weeks before Brooke suffered her injury, Lauren’s horse Tony was rushed to Leesburg for emergency colic surgery. Like all sixteen year-old girls, she had big dreams for her move-up horse. That night, as she sat on the floor in the dimly lit hallway outside the operating room, all she cared about was having him home again in our pasture. The shiny goal of Young Riders dimmed in comparison to her love for him. She was ready to give it all up for his well-being, with absolutely no regrets. Sadly, neither were meant to be and we had to make the gut-wrenching decision to let him go.
On a few occasions, Brooke has pulled up her horse in the middle of running cross-country at the first misstep she feels, whether it be an unrecognized show or area championships. While I know this is expected of a good horsewoman, these times have made me swell with pride at how in a split second she could set aside her drive to see that course through to the end and put her horse’s health above all else. There were times that later on she realized she could’ve continued with no damage done, but there were others that her choice to stop averted a serious injury. That compassion I’ve seen throughout the years is now being channeled towards a career in nursing and it’s already made her highly valued at the hospital she works.
3. My kids will fail – let them own it and love them through it. It’s always tough watching the disappointments our children face because of a bad ride or losing. We’re driven mostly by love; but, if we’re honest we have to admit misplaced pride in their successes motivates us as well. Lauren and Brooke have ridden dressage tests with their ponies’ noses in the air, knocked down countless rails, and have had plenty of stops and run-outs on cross country. Ninety-nine percent of the time it was their fault and they outright admitted it before I had a chance to ask what happened. I learned quickly to not make excuses for them. The times I did I was met with a quick rebuttal from them or their trainer. We love our kids every day, not just on the ones they bring home a ribbon. If they learn and grow as riders and people, then it’s a success. Taking this to heart not only makes me a better parent, it makes me a better person.
4. There will be others who are better and more talented than they are – celebrate their peers’ accomplishments and embrace the camaraderie that grows from that. My daughters have learned pretty early on this truth in life – there is always someone better than you, no matter your success or expertise. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed seeing these kids whose paths we crossed at shows or my girls have even competed against enjoy hard-fought victories at levels that have surpassed anything they’ve done. Their talent and drive are to be held up as an example for all of us, young and old. Lauren and Brooke have enjoyed friendships with some of them, receiving unequivocal support in their good and bad times. That camaraderie is so precious to my daughters and me. One of their very best friends, whom they’ve known for years, won gold at Young Riders a couple of years ago. They’ve been with her every step of the way, absolutely reveling in her successes and rallying around her in her losses, and she has done the same for them. She is their biggest fan. This girl (who is in college now) is like my own and her family is part of ours. Of all the benefits of this sport, it’s the bonds I have made through my children that has been one of the very top blessings I’ve received.
5. Don’t judge parents of better means who have given their kids more than we could give our own. Yes, I’m going there. Who amongst us hasn’t looked at the other side of the fence and viewed those greener pastures with a tinge of bitterness? If you haven’t, then you’re either a far better person than I or maybe just lying to yourself. Truth be told, given the resources of that wealthy parent I would also buy that former 4* horse (or horses in my case!) in a hot minute and have my kids and horses spend their winters training in Aiken, SC or Ocala, FL. Instead of passing judgement on them and their values, I give them credit for using their blessings to foster their children’s dreams. What mom or dad wouldn’t do that?
6. We are blessed to be able to give what we could to our daughters. It’s hard for family and friends who aren’t involved in eventing or any horse sport to understand that our budget is pretty close to bottom of the barrel. Some think we have gobs of money (oh heavens, we don’t!) or we’re just plain crazy (yeah, I’ll own that). We haven’t had a real vacation in years; our only ones seem to be that occasional away show or a couple of quick runs to Aiken to get in some lessons during the winter. My husband usually stays behind on those trips because of work and to take care of our retired ponies that live at home with us. Speaking of home – the house needs fixing and the fences need mending, but that has been on hold for a while. That said, we are infinitely blessed to be able to make the choices we have while still putting food on the table and a roof over our heads, as well as providing our daughters with an education. In the end, it’s a luxury to partake in this sport no matter how much our children’s hearts say it’s a necessity. As a group – adults and kids, amateur and professionals – we need to remember those whose suffering in this world far surpasses ours. Sometimes that means looking beyond our borders and sometimes at the next rider in the start box. Perhaps that’s the most important lesson of all.
