In the equestrian community, we are conditioned to misunderstand and mistreat horses from such an early age. To say that, almost feels at odds with everything we believe about ourselves, everything we know about those who choose to spend their lives around horses. We love these animals, that’s why we train them, raise them and ride them. We form bonds with them, share experiences, and often build our lives around them. They become our companions and even our teachers in many ways. It’s why we get called ‘horse people’, because once you fall in love with horses, they become a huge part of who you are.
And because we love them, we need to face up to some of the less-than-ideal practices that are normalised within the world of horse riding and training.
In the same way that each new generation of parents get the opportunity to do things a little better, unlearning things that we now know to be harmful, replacing them with more loving ways of being; we get to do the same with the way we treat our animals. We can choose to become more attuned to their needs, learning to communicate with them in ways that honour their intelligence and emotions.
I remember a few years ago, I was visiting France with my family and my niece asked me to take her to a pony club. When we got there, we spent some time just hanging around the ponies, enjoying their presence, the feel of the soft muzzles of the more curious ones snuffling at us and saying hello. Because these were mostly smaller ponies, there were a lot of little girls around the age of six or seven there.
As I was petting one of the ponies, a young girl approached and started telling me, very proudly, about how that pony had been “super naughty ” during her lesson earlier, but it was okay, because she had “whipped him loads” and he was “better now”.
And my heart kind of broke.
This kid, who was so young, still so open to learning and receiving, had been taught that when a horse doesn’t cooperate, rather than examining why that might be and checking on the physical and emotional wellbeing and comfort of the horse, we punish it and force it into submission.
Not only that, but to be proud, gleeful even, about whipping a horse that isn’t doing what she wanted it to do.
It highlights a fundamental misunderstanding of the horse’s perspective, dismissing its experience and emotions.
This approach is so common in these spaces, so normal.
We grow up with teachers who instruct us to ignore the horse and their ques, to insist on the requests we make of our horses with our bodies when we ride and to ‘teach a lesson’ by whipping. We are taught to push and shove until the horses will bends to our own and they finally do what we want him or her to do.
And so, we grow into adults who own horses, and we find ourselves torn between the deep bond we have with our animal, the love we feel, and all the lessons we were raised on telling us we should dismiss all that same beloved animals’ signals and non-verbal ques.
We feel in our bodies that something isn’t right, but many people simply don’t realise there is any other way to be, surrounded as they are by other members of the equestrian community who were raised with similar methods being taught.
We find ourselves in a space where we all perpetuate this same mindset of emphasising dominance over the horse as being the only way to maintain control and ride safely, not realising there is another path.
It’s hard to know who to listen to, when our gut is telling us something needs to change, but everything we have learnt is telling us that our horse is acting up, or, as with the little girl in France, being ‘naughty’ and needs to be shown who is boss.
Unlearning what we were taught as kids is no easy journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. It takes a lot of energy, awareness and self-reflection, a willingness to be challenged, to challenge others and to challenge ourselves. We must lovingly reject practices that may have been handed down to us by people we may deeply respect, from teachers, friends or family. We must seek out new methods, which takes time and patience. It requires a willingness to learn, to observe, and to listen to our horses with an open heart and mind.
Why do all this, when the way things have been done for so long seems to work just fine? Because it’s the only way we can honour that little child within us who just loved horses, and wanted to be with them, before the world taught her that part of loving her horse meant using a whip.
By accepting the challenge of doing this work, examining what we’ve learned and being willing to let go of what is no longer aligned with our values, we can create a more compassionate and respectful approach to horsemanship, where love and understanding replace dominance and control.