21/10/2025
After the last few shows, I came to a realisation.
Underpinning all the training, all the lessons, all the hours in the saddle - I’ve been looking at the wrong thing.
→ I thought I wanted to learn how to ride.
↳ What I actually needed was to learn how to listen.
Because when I slow down enough to really see George, I realise that so much of what happens in the show pen is just an echo of what’s happening in his heart.
I used to think the tension, the resistance, the need to get back to the collecting pen were things to be corrected.
Now I realise they’re things to be 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱.
• When we walk into the arena and he fights to turn back, it isn’t defiance - it’s fear of being left.
• When he raises his head and loses softness, it isn’t attitude - it’s anxiety.
• When he weaves in the stable or ties himself emotionally to another horse too quickly, he’s not being difficult - he’s trying to find safety wherever he can.
And that changes everything.
I’ve spent months turning over every possible explanation. I’ve read, researched, and reflected. I’ve asked questions that led me to hard places - including whether this was something I could ever truly help him through.
I’ve considered every conceivable option, even the ones that break your heart to think about.
But when you strip it all back, my commitment is - and always will be - to George.
For me, he’s not a tool I bought to do a job.
He’s not a vehicle for points, placings, or pride.
He’s a soul I’m responsible for.
A teacher. A mirror.
And for every one thing I try to teach him, he teaches me a thousand things in return - about patience, empathy, humility, and grace.
So the next chapter for us isn’t about polishing patterns or collecting ribbons. It’s about rebuilding trust, one small, quiet moment at a time.
And as for Team Gwalter - this is where the story grows a little deeper.
From here on, we’ll be sharing the other side of horsemanship - the emotional, often unseen work that happens when you stop trying to train out behaviour and start trying to understand it.
Because somewhere along the way, I’ve realised that horsemanship isn’t about control.
𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.
And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do for your horse is to start again - not from where you were, but from 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲.