I don’t think my mom knew what she was signing up for when she took me to a riding lesson for the very first time one summer afternoon more than two decades ago. But as an eight year old, I was just as fiercely persistent as I am now, so it only took me about two years of unrelenting questioning to finally make it happen. Yes, she knew some of what she was in for, but I’ll bet if you ask her, she was never expecting THIS.
She knew it was a dangerous sport. I’ll never forget her locking the minivan doors in the lesson stable’s parking lot, telling me the horrific story of Christopher Reeve’s paralysis as a last ditch effort to get me to change my mind. (No such luck). She knew it would not be a glamorous life, and warned me that horses smell and they poop a lot. (Still not deterred). Then there was the harsh reality that this was an expensive pastime, one not easily attainable by average suburban families. But nothing was diverting my attention away from how badly I wanted to ride a horse, so she, like most other unsuspecting future horse show moms, decided to sacrifice the time and the money and entertain the idea. It might just be a phase, after all.
(Spoiler alert: it was not).
So my mom began her journey as a horse show mom. This is not a life for the faint of heart. I’m sure anyone would cringe to add up the hours she spent driving me to and from riding lessons every week for years. Then there’s the fun of seeing your kid tossed into the dirt (or getting the “I’m in the hospital” phone calls). She has spent far too much time freezing inside barns, being bitten by flies, sneezed on by horses, and fielding teenage meltdowns about lost riding clothes. Bless her heart for trying to help improve my riding technique (“maybe you should do what your instructor says and try to put your heels down”) and trying to make me feel better after going off course in a show (“but I thought you looked the prettiest”). And then every horse show mom’s worst nightmare: thanks to me, my littlest sister also caught the horse show bug. Sorry, Mom.
The list of things she did is endless. But there is one thing that stands out, the very, very best thing she ever did. Not once during the past two decades of living this crazy horse girl life did she ever tell me she didn’t think I could do it. Never, not once. One of the coolest things about my mom is how much she believes in dreams. And I think believing you can do something is about the most powerful tool you can have. She may not have given me a pony, or an endless supply of riding lessons, but she gave me something far better than all of that: the belief that dreams can come true. I have to credit her for making me work so damn hard to get those riding lessons as a kid and also for never suggesting that working that hard wasn’t worth it.
I like to think that she did get something out of her sacrifice. And not just quelling the incessant pleading of an eight-year-old. I hope that she sees how her sacrifices brought me joy, how the horses helped an awkward teenager’s confidence to grow, and how being a horsewoman has given me purpose and happiness in my adult life. I doubt she had visions of crafting a horse’s ring bearer sash for her daughter’s wedding and she probably did not expect to celebrate birthdays in Kentucky Horse Park nor did she want to have her oldest daughter constantly late and covered in hay, dust and sweat at most family functions. But I imagine she dreamed of raising tough, capable women and I know she sees beyond the barn hair and the dirty fingernails to the passionate, determined woman she’s raised.
So thank you to my horse show mom! And happy Mother’s Day out to all the current and future horse show moms out there… I promise your support and sacrifice is all worth it.Someday.
