Lessons from My Mare

Life-Changing Learning Comes from a Surprising Source

I used to be that girl, you know, the gelding girl. I was pro-geldings and-anti mares for most of my horse-owning life. There’s just something about those goofy geldings that makes my heart smile from the inside out and eases some of the pain of dishing out thousands…I mean hundreds (in case your husband is reading this) in bills per year.

When my gelding was diagnosed with a career-ending injury my bank account was depleted, but so was my spirit and my hope of owning a horse again. When I was finally ready for horse ownership again, I knew owning a gelding was not a reality for me. I would be questioning every bump, scrape, and tail swish so that riding would become a source of panic rather than pleasure. So, for the first time ever…I own a mare. And I love her more than I ever thought I could. Let me share some lessons she’s taught me.

Mares are just like women.

If you read that sentence and were offended, I understand, because I was too. At first, I didn’t understand why my mare, Ellen, was so unhappy all the time. I didn’t get it—wasn’t she just happy to be out riding with me? It turns out she wasn’t, and it was my fault.

One day, my trainer finally told me life changing advice: Stop picking on her. Mares are just like women. Let her do her mare thing, then ask her to work. 

Now I always let her do her mare thing. I let her look around with curiosity; I give her the time to get her thoughts in order before expecting greatness, and I don’t demand the same thing of her every day once she’s proven she can do it. The perfectionist in me wants to manage every second of her time, but I’m learning to only correct her when she makes a mistake and not before (how many ex-boyfriends have I left because they were too controlling?). 

Mares forgive. 

I’m not talking about forgetting; geldings forget, but mares forgive. It’s easy to be a gelding; ignorance is bliss. The world owes you horse cookies, and everyone is your friend. But it’s hard to be a mare. You take things personally, sometimes there are more hormones involved, and occasionally someone pushes your buttons wrong (like your non-pro rider who has no idea what she’s doing). But my mare lets me try again tomorrow.

I’ve made many mistakes on my mare. She’s more talented than I am but lets me ride and learn, and she forgives me for how I rode when I didn’t know any better. I try to be more like my mare with the people I love in my life—simply forgiving.

You don’t have to be perfect to be loved. 

I struggle with equating my accomplishments and titles with how much people love me. You might wonder why I willingly show horses when the combination of my self-image and paying people to (literally) judge me seems like a poor life choice. But showing horses has taught me more about myself than anything I’ve ever done—second to owning my mare, that is.

In reined cow horse we have two parts to every horse show class entered: a reining pattern followed by the cow work. At a recent horse show, I felt the pressure of maintaining my status in the year-end standings and was overwhelmed with the feeling of failure and shame when I “lost” my cow. My mind raced with self-deprecating thoughts like: You idiot, you did that thing with your hand again! Why didn’t you just wait for that cow? What were you thinking? 

And even though I felt like the lowest scum of the earth, I didn’t hold one ounce of blame for my mare. I still thought she was absolutely the baddest, coolest horse I’ve ever ridden even though she made some mistakes too. My words to her were: It’s ok, I still love you. Your right turn was a little slower than normal; are you feeling your best? Time for a snack; thanks for the hard work. 

My inner self screamed, pleaded, and cried to speak to myself in the same way I spoke to my beloved mare. This is a cardinal rule of life: you will not be perfect, but you will still be loved, and you deserve to love yourself, too.

When you do what you love, you’re better at it. 

You know exactly what I’m talking about if you have a career that you enjoy. Late nights, early wakeups, and traffic seem insignificant compared to the work you get to do. If you aren’t happy in your employment, everything becomes menial and bitterness seeps in your soul. 

My mare makes it very clear when she is the happiest, and that is doing anything including running, sliding, and working cattle. Unfortunately for me, there are two large components of the rein work that are not her passions in life: circles. 

In life, we sometimes must do the less favorable tasks to get to the ones that set our passions and talents on fire. Often, the circles in reining come before the fun stuff, so the suffering is mandatory. But when I turn her on the straight line down the middle for the run and stop, she hears the gate click open for the cow, or she takes the first step in the herd, life makes sense again. 

We can’t always jump to the fun stuff, but we can work towards it. My wish for you is that you set yourself on that straight line and run down towards what you love to do, because your life will change when you reach that end marker and finally hear what makes sense to you. 

No matter what kind of horse you own, there are always lessons to be learned from them. These profound, life-changing lessons just happened to come from a mare I wasn’t so sure I could love. 

See this article in the October 2025 Online Digital Edition:

October 2025