Bravery

I dread every time I plan to work with Holly.

I'm afraid that I'll mess the little things up, and she'll lose any trust she has for me. I'm afraid that she won't want to be near me, that she'll fear me. I'm afraid.

Holly is my everything. She is my child, someone who I put more effort into than myself. She is my teacher, from whom I have learned gentleness, kindness, patience, and to live in the moment. She is my best friend, my therapist, the only being in the whole world that I can pour my heart into, and not have to worry that I'm talking her ear off.

I'm afraid, because if I lose Holly (if she dies, is sold, decides she doesn't like me anymore, doesn't respond to me) I am nothing. I have put so much time, money, passion, and sorrow into her, that to lose it all would be devastating. But not only that. If I lost her, I would be losing my child, my closest friend. If I lost her, I would go crazy.

So, I've tiptoed around her. I've avoided doing anything with her that would change our relationship, that would make her think that I'm not nice to be around. I've avoided bridling, because she doesn't like it. I've avoided grooming her, because she doesn't like it. I've avoided riding because I'm scared that I won't be a good enough leader on her back as I am on the ground, and that she'll lose trust and respect for me because of that.

Lately, I've realized that what I'm doing isn't helping either of us. We're not going anywhere, we're not moving. My parents are fed up. They want me to start riding Holly this summer, or they are selling her.

At first I was furious with them. How dare they threaten Holly like that. But, then I saw their point. Deep down inside, I do want to ride Holly, I do want to go places with her. I just have to face my fears. I have to be brave.

With that timeline in place, I've started to up the ante. I've started grooming Holly every day. And though she wriggled and twitched and swished her tail when I first started, I didn't give up. I made sure we were both in respectful shapes to each other, but let her move when she absolutely had to. The first few times I tried that, I was terrified that Holly would be angry with me for actually making her listen. But, to my surprise, she wasn't. In fact, after those grooming sessions, and even still, she had the most beautiful join up with me, even ignoring her food (which she was so desperate to stuff in her mouth while I was trying to groom her at first) to follow me, head level, without halter or lead.

I've also started round penning her more, and every time so far, Holly's given me gorgeous bows. I plan to start lunging her, and adding on more and more new things/work until we're riding.

I realized that this whole time I've been holding everything back (I was the same needy, cautious person with Miss B, and we didn't go anywhere either. Cindy says she's perfect now.) I was trying to control everything by keeping things slow and easy, at a speed I could manage. All it took was a kick in the pants from my parents and Cindy, and a little bravery from me, and now I'm starting to see good things. Holly hasn't let me give her a good grooming for 3 years, now she's calm for it every day. We'd only joined up about 3 times before, but now we join up every day as well. She nickers at me every time she sees me too ♥.


I've finally let go, I've freed Holly and myself from the terrible restrictions I'd put on. We're going to go places. Watch out. :P

Attempts at artistic pictures :)

She's so cute.

♥

Changes

Life. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes you wish it would go on forever. You get over things, you forget things, but it never stops changing. 

Four years ago, I never thought I would own two horses. Heck, I was ready to get rid of the one I had.

Two years ago, after Miss B came into my life, I never though I would sell her. Never. But now I have. 

For the past year I've been wondering things. Things like, would I be able to do more with Holly if Miss B wasn't in the picture? Would it be better if she just 'went away'? I quickly squashed those thoughts out of my head. There was no way I could sell her. She was my responsibility. I didn't want to ride her, but it was no fault of her own. I had pushed her to the edge, she pushed back. She scared me, and I scarred her (not physically, but still). I made her afraid of the saddle! How horrible is that? I vowed I would overcome it, I would make up to her for every time I had miss-used her, intentionally or not. And I started to, I really did. I worked with her in the round pen, I resigned myself to letting go of any goals I had for her, and eventually I just let her be in the pasture, with me there to feed, and gently communicate with every day. But, I never wanted to ride her again. I was happy with the relationship we had. When she would see me, she would bow and yawn (Holly too) and relax. I wondered if that was only because I wasn't making them do anything. Because I was just letting them be horses with no interference from me. I was terrified that if I tried working with (lunging, riding) her again, it would damage the relationship we had. I never wanted her to go back to being stressed by the very sight of the saddle, never wanted her to be so upset that she had to slam me into a wall to get me to realize it like she had to before.

Miss B has so much more potential and bravery than to just be a pasture ornament. She doesn't have conformation for anything like reigning, or dressage, or gymkhana, and don't even get me started on jumping. But, she can cross loud flowing rivers that are over chest deep without a single pause. She can truck over deadfall and through closely crowded underbrush like it's not even there. She even once stood without flinching while a herd of bison charged her from the other side of a fence (not with me on, thank goodness, but before I got her). She is so brave. Almost too brave, because she gets so strong sometimes. And I respect her for that, but I also fear her for it. There, I admitted it. I am scared of her. Before, I was scared that if I rode her, she would get "out of hand" and I wouldn't be able to control her. Lately, I've been scared of that, and on top of it, that she would hate me for doing it. 

So, I confided in the one person that truly understands my position with my horses, Cindy. She listened to my predicament, and finally came to a conclusion. She knows I don't want to do anything with Miss B, and that she's hindering me from doing anything with Holly because they're buddy sour. She also knows that I would never be able to sell her to just anybody. So, Cindy said she would buy Miss B back, and put her talents to good use as a trail horse like she was before. And I accepted. God forgive me, I accepted.

I knew I would back out of the decision if something wasn't done quickly, so the same day, Cindy came to give me a lesson, and then she would take back Miss B. In that lesson, I rode Holly for the first time since November. And it was the best ride we've ever had together. Something just clicked, and I knew I'd made the right descion. 

Both Holly and I will miss Miss B (well, we already do), but we will be better for it. I will have more time to work with Holly without any outside distractions. Miss B will be able to live up to her potential and have a job to do. Also, I know she has a great home, and I can visit her whenever I want, maybe even ride her. 

Miss B has been gone for less than a week, but already I've been progressing with Holly farther than I have in our entire life together. It's like the way life was before Miss B, except that I've learned so much, and I can deal with many of the things that Holly may throw at me. I've made goals, and plans, and I'm setting myself and Holly up to achieve them. (One of my goals is to update this blog regularly!)

I know plans change, life changes. But without change, there is no progress. It's very hard (to let go of Miss B, to work through my fears with Holly, to move forward), but I can do it. Holly and I can do it together. Miss B has been a curve in the road of The Journey, but one I have learned so much from. So, down the road I continue, with only one horse by my side.