I vowed to create a safe, calm space for them, where their feelings would be acknowledged, their pain addressed, and their autonomy respected. I have learned to set aside my own negativity, to approach each horse with an open heart and a willingness to listen and to do the same for people.

Today, I choose to be part of the change. I choose to honor each horse’s quiet wisdom, to share what I’ve learned so that others may also recognise these subtle communications and respond with empathy and care.

What disheartened me so much fueled my purpose

For the longest time, I felt uneasy, even angry, as I watched how some people misunderstood horses’ behavior. I saw moments filled with tension, where a horse’s pain was brushed off as stubbornness or “dominance,” and humans projected their own fears and traumas onto these sensitive beings. I felt disheartened and powerless, standing by in silent frustration as their quiet pleas for understanding went unheard.

Yet, even in my darkest moments of hopelessness, I knew something was different about the way I saw their world and that I would eventually be able to help horses and hopefully inspire others to notice the things that have seemed so obvious to me.

I’ve always had the ability to read what others seemed to overlook—the subtle flick of an ear, the gentle swish of a tail, the way a horse holds its entire body in response to its surroundings. In these small signals, I found stories that no one else was listening to. 

–A forever student of the horse