OK, so maybe my horse hasn’t taught me how to balance a chemical equation or how to properly cite my sources in an essay, but she has taught me more about life than any textbook ever could.
She has taught me that hard work and perseverance are necessary tools to succeed in life because not everything is or should be handed to you. I know I have big career goals and aspirations, but I’m not going to get there by sitting around and waiting for a magical phone call offering me my dream job while I sit on the couch eating potato chips, watching “Dance Moms.”
Everything that is worth something in life takes work, and all Equestrians know that nothing comes easy as a rider—we have to work for it day in and day out because the second we slip up, we’re handing that championship ribbon over to the person who has been working twice as hard as we have.
She has also taught me to learn from my mistakes — no matter how long it takes me to realize that it’s a mistake. You would think that after doing something wrong five times in a row, I would know I need to switch up how I approach the jump. But, like most Equestrians, I don’t realize it until about 10 tries later when my trainer is probably wondering if I have ever been on a horse before in my life.
SEE ALSO:11 True And False Horse Girl Stereotypes
Similarly, we make mistakes outside of the riding arena. We continue to make friends with the wrong people or we continue to spend money on things that we really don’t need. It may take us one or five or 77 times to get it right, but eventually, we will learn from our mistakes and start approaching the jump (or whatever situation it may be) correctly.
She has taught me to see the best in people too. When I first bought her, things weren’t too pretty. I was training her to be a hunter after she had been a jumper her entire 10 years of life on Earth. (For all of the non-Equestrians reading this picture trying to make a sports car to go the speed of someone walking.) That’s about what this transition is like.
I remember being frustrated, and there were even times I started to second guess whether or not this was actually going to work. But every time I second guessed it, she started to make progress — real, true, authentic progress.
Now, five years later, she’s an old pro, and she does everything and anything I ask. She taught me that sometimes you can’t see the good in someone on the surface—they may frustrate you, drive you crazy and just downright annoy you, but if you give them a shot, there’s something beautiful hiding underneath that just needs to be revealed. Wait it out, be patient and take a chance in finding that beauty.
Maybe my horse didn’t teach me how to solve a chemical equation, but she did teach me how to succeed outside of the classroom, and for that, I will always be grateful.