By JAMIE SINDELL
I never knew how much I’d give up for this life — until I saw how much it gave to her.
It takes a lot to love a horse kid well.
You’ve got to have grit, the kind that gets you out of bed before sunrise to load the trailer, braid your kid’s hair with tired fingers, and fake a smile before your first sip of caffeine.
You’re a cheerleader even when your tank is empty. Clapping at the show ring. Videoing lessons. Offering encouragement. Even if all you want is a nap in the quiet of the car.
You plaster on a smile when all you want to do is scream. Like when your kid gets bucked off and you want to march into the ring, scoop her up, and convince her to pick something safer (and cheaper), like the swim team.
You put your own dreams on hold. That fancy warmblood you still fantasize about. The hope of showing in the AAs again. Maybe it’s a long pause. Maybe it’s a forever-goodbye. Because now your money, your energy, your weekends — your everything — goes to her.
You convince your partner that the horse budget is still “reasonable.” That the money not going toward college savings or paving the cracked driveway is still the wisest investment. And maybe you bicker about it at night when the kids are asleep.
You miss family events. Flake on dinner plans. Break promises to paint the kids’ rooms. There’s a lesson. A show to prep for. And you just can’t fit it all in.
You skip acts of self-care. Forget the haircut. Skip the new jeans. There’s a farrier or a show bill due, so you stash that cash away.
You scrimp and stretch to make her dreams happen and still feel like it’s not enough. Because you’re too busy replacing lost bows, outgrown saddles, torn jods, and confidence.
You lose some relationships. The friends who don’t understand. Who don’t get the time, the sacrifice, the obsession. And some moments, you feel so alone.
You’re the soft place to land when things fall apart. When the pony is lame. When the judge isn’t fair. When the show goes sideways. You stitch your child back together even when you’re falling apart yourself.
You walk through barn drama on tippy toes. Stay calm when you want to snap. Because this is where she’s learning to handle conflict, and she’s watching you.
You agonize over your choices. Did you pick the right trainer? Lease the right pony? Get taken advantage of?
And when you make a mistake with the horses, you beat yourself up over it. Because this is a culmination of all your time, energy, and money. And it feels like your kid’s passion is at stake.
You scroll through families with fancy horses, wintering at the big shows. Your heart aches because you can’t offer your kid those opportunities. Then the guilt creeps in because you know how lucky you are to give her this life at all. And you carry both feelings at once, twisting your insides.
You wonder if raising your kid in this bubble of privilege is helping or hurting her. You constantly stress that this level of income, this lifestyle, isn’t normal.
So you’ll cringe, and say “absolutely not,” when your kid begs for the thousand-dollar show jacket just to fit in. Because “everyone” wears them.
If you have a child who doesn’t ride, the guilt cuts even deeper. Is supporting one kid’s horse life fair to the rest of the family?
Some days, you’ll wonder. How are we still doing this? Should we still be doing this?
Because it gnaws at you each time you tell her to keep working hard and keep dreaming big… knowing deep down that’s not always enough to make it in this sport.
But then she walks into the barn and lights up. Like really lights up. It’s Christmas morning every single time.
And you think to yourself, I will find a way.
Because in choosing this life, she’s learning what it means to give her whole heart to something — and keep going, even when it would be so much easier to give up. And so are you, even if you don’t always realize it.
Jamie Sindell is a passionate equestrian blogger. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Arizona and a BS in Animal Science from Cornell University. She has ridden and owned hunters on and off throughout her life. She is a mom of five kids who range from ages 4-15. She and her family reside at Wish List Farm, where her horse-crazy girls play with their ponies. Her son and husband play with the tractor. You can follow her on Instagram @wishlistfarm.
