2015-12-15: Hi! You're probably here because you did a Google search for 'plus sized horseback riders' or you saw my content quoted elsewhere. There are a couple of things I'd like you to know.

I am still here! But I am living away from my horses and not riding often. I could tell you a lie and say that I am, but I have always endeavored to give you the truth here. As a result, I'm not feeling terribly motivated to write blog posts and I feel out of touch with the community.

I'd love for you to stay a while and look back through the archives. Visit the links listed below. We still have an active forum community and I post on the Facebook page from time to time.

I have tentative plans to try to get more involved in the horse world in 2016, and I will absolutely share whatever that adventure becomes with you, so keep checking back!

Thursday, September 16, 2010

What you need

Sometimes, I think, horses sense what we need, ultimately, over what we necessarily want. There have been countless times that I have been in need of comfort, in need of confidence, in need of security, and I have gone to the barn. Sometimes a horse that doesn’t naturally display the personality that would be conducive to offering this support has a brief moment where they stand still for a second longer than they would, or they nuzzle their face into your neck, which is completely out of character, just when you really need it the most. Sometimes I wish that humans were as sensitive to the needs and moods of others as horses are. Horses don’t ask “What’s wrong?” (which we all know doesn’t help things when you are hurting or grieving), they ask “Does this help?”.

Without going into too many details, I can say that everyone on the farm is having a very rough time right now. On top of the daily stresses of life, we are facing some difficult decisions, and to top things off, a corporation has been clear cutting a property that runs parallel to our home at all hours of the day and night. I have been told I have no right to be upset as it’s not our property, but all night with the saws, the lights of their machines reflecting off of our bedroom walls, the sounds of the forest being taken down methodically, until there is nothing left. I used to imagine that unicorns lived in that forest. It has been there since my father was a child.

Last night, I just needed something. I wasn’t sure what it was. I have been so busy with life and everything else for the last couple of weeks that I am pretty sure it had been a week since I had even put my hands on Bronwyn, let alone ridden her. She made me walk clear to the top of the hill in our pasture to catch her and she was just wound, snorting, taking off, difficult to catch.

I finally caught her and brought her down to the barn and got the idea into my head that I just needed to feel a connection with a living being, with as little interference as possible. I put her bridle on and headed out without her saddle. I finally slid up onto her (she is getting wider and wider, I guess my goal to help her lose weight has been falling to the wayside lately!) and rode to the crest of the little knoll in our paddock. We sat silently, perfectly still, watching the lights of the machines just beyond the tree line for quite some time. Just the feeling of her breathing under me, the tiny movements of her body as she settled and shifted, the frisson that started toward the end of her ribs when she saw a cat coming to us through the waning light and then settled again. Occasionally, she would turn her head and nudge my knee just as if to say “I’m still right here”.

Normally, Bronwyn can be a bit of a pill bareback. She moves, a lot, she rushes sometimes… last night she was calm, quiet, on a loose rein with her head down, patiently standing when I needed her just to be still.

My sister saw me and came out and asked what I was doing, just standing there, not riding, just sitting on my horse.

“Why are you doing that?”

“It feels good. You want some?”

She declined the offer (though I frankly think she needed it more than I did), and we had a good heart to heart. Again, Bronwyn stood still, like she was taking in the conversation, even when a couple of cats came tearing by her in the twilight.

Next week? Might be different. But last night, she was intrinsically in tune to exactly what I needed, and for that I am grateful.


By the by, while I am dealing with these issues that are happening right now, I am planning to post a guest blog entry that was written graciously for me by a wonderful person. :)


  1. It is amazing how they know, isn't it? I remember 2 years ago, after putting my Rottie to sleep, I went to see Promise. I just wanted to exist in the same space with her...she had been in my life as long as (actually a little longer) than Harley, and for some reason, that was extra comforting in that moment. I wrapped my arms around her neck, and she actually hugged me back and let me cry into her mane. Normally, she kind of looks at me cross eyed like, WTH, mom? really? You're embarrassing me!

  2. What an inspiring, amazing post. This brought tears to my eyes. Please give Beeze a big ole hug from me. =) And while you're at it, give yourself one too.

  3. It's almost unbelievable how sensitive these amazing creatures are. Bronwyn knew exactly what you needed.

  4. So sorry you are all going through a tough time. Hope thing are better soon. As to the development . I watched the city of Edmonton encroach on the farm I was raised on and that my great grandfather had settled, I felt as though my world was ending , but now looking back the memories are still in my heart and head . Those Unicorns will live forever with you if you let them. Hugs to you and Bronwyn, you have a sweet wise horse

  5. Super great post.. teared me up. I know exactly what you mean. The other day my horse sensed I was taking things a little too seriously (in life) and started to chase me and play. He had never done anything like that before, and before I knew it I was laughing in delight, my issues put away for a bit.... special creatures, they are our unicorns...