I have always been afraid to do hard things. I was frozen by the possibility of failing.
I didn't really know how to try. How do you just do something new? Something that wasn't laid out or planned by parents or an employer or a consequence of being young and dumb. How did people just go and experience things? How do you enjoy your life and yourself without the shackles of fear?
I'm 38 and I am still afraid to do hard things.
The last 3 years I started to feel restless. Resentful, maybe? Uncomfortable, maybe? Something I couldn't put my finger on. I had a steady job, a safe place to live, a daughter that wasn't completely embarrassed by me. I felt like my life was slowly passing me by and I couldn't hold on tight enough. I thought I should be more joyful or happier because I had the things I needed to survive, I had my independence, I did the little things that I liked, and had a very strict routine. My comfort zone was very, very small and I thought that's what I liked.
I started working with a therapist around that time and shared some of my frustrations. She asked me what I liked. I rattled off somethings and she shook her head. No, she said, what do you like? What do you enjoy doing? What fulfills you? The first thing that came out of my mouth was horses. It was always horses. From wearing a bejeweled cowboy hat at age 5 to now - I loved horses.
She told me to volunteer. I loved to be of service, so I should combine that with horses. I tried to protest. I was too old to do anything with horses. I didn't have horses. I had been taking riding lessons again in the past few years and I wasn't enjoying it.
I had ridden horses on and off for over 20 years. I wanted to be a cowboy so bad. I wanted to be tough and calloused and brave. I wanted to go fast and wear tight jeans and intimidate men with my equine knowledge and win money at barrel races. But the truth was, you guessed it, I was afraid. I had been bucked off when I was 12 and that's when the doubt was planted. From that moment on, I had never fully felt at peace when I was riding. I was stiff and disconnected from my body and my mind was so busy that I couldn't process basic commands - heels down, toes up, inside leg, outside rein. When riding a large creature that has a potential to hurt you, it's a smart idea to pay attention. I was nervous and sweaty and a terrible cowboy. I would panic before every lesson and all I wanted to do was get it over with. I did not want to go faster than a trot, I did not want to go on windy trail rides, and I did not want to beat my horse into doing something it did not want to do. I was never going to be able to have horses, let alone make a career out of them. How could I love something so much, but hate everything about the world they lived in?
I didn't want one more person to tell me to just "get back on the horse". The only advice I seemed to be offered was to discipline the horse; I was in charge, not them; spur them until they give up; you have a whip for a reason. I knew I was never going to be a cowboy because I could not and would not force something I loved to do something it hated. I felt like something was missing or wrong - I assumed it was me. So I gave up. Horses could be a nice dream, but I was too old and scared for anything more.
That's what I tried telling my therapist. I loved them, but that's all I could do. She encouraged me to reach out to a local nonprofit to just see. What was the harm? I agreed and reached out later that day. The next day they responded and we set up a time for me to come out. I was excited, but nervous. I am an adult now, so being nervous around horses seemed so...childish?
When I met one of the staff members I liked her aura. It felt familiar. The horses were rescues and were used in an equine assisted psychotherapy program. They provided mental health services to at-risk youth and veterans. I was blown away. I had worked in that field and couldn't believe there was a way to support equine and people. I loved being able to be of service to the horses. Grooming, mucking pens, prepping supplements for the week, etc. It was quiet and calm and it didn't hurt that the horses were so darn cute. At the end of the volunteer shift, the staff member, we will call her Ally, started to share more about the program and the model it is based on. EAGALA - Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association. This association had been around for years, spanned worldwide, and had helped thousands of horses and people. There was no riding involved. The basis of the program was experiential. Horses were seen as a partner, a co-facilitator, a co-therapist. Horses were valued, respected, and communicated with. A licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, along with a certified Equine Specialist, the horse, and client, held a session in an arena. Working and talking through things that the client wants to address. With the help and support from the horse.
I was in shock. Ally shared about her own experiences with horses. How much the spiritual connection was respected. How much she loved her horses. She shared her views on training, connecting, and working with horses. Something started to shift in me. This was what I was missing. I thought I was a terrible horsewoman for years. I deprived myself of this connection, this knowledge because I didn't know there were ways to be with horses without fear. It suddenly felt like there was light in the dark spaces in my heart. I had hope.
It has been almost three years since that magical moment. It was a catalyst for the path I am walking on. A lot has happened in three years and I wish I could say that I am no longer afraid of failing, of doing something hard, of looking stupid. I am still afraid, but I am willing to try.
Come with me as I fumble through this and find the joy in failing.
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