
BY LAUREN MAULDIN
Social media often feels nameless. It’s easy to hide behind a profile picture and throw out harsh commentary. I see this every day as one of the people who moderates The Plaid Horse’s social media. Most of the time, I’m deleting unsolicited advice from armchair trainers. Occasionally, it’s worse—cruel comments meant to tear others down. I do this work to keep our online spaces safe, kind, and welcoming.
When I made a quick, cheerful little graphic for Pride month yesterday and posted it to our social channels, a friend of mine texted saying she hoped the comments weren’t too horrible. To be honest, I didn’t think much of it. After all, major corporations such as Apple, Nabisco, MAC Cosmetics, and so many others have Pride advertisements, promotions, and sponsorships on a national level. Overall, the horse community is a pretty accepting bunch. I didn’t expect much of anything.
When the snarky comments minimizing the LGBTQ+ community and Pride month trickled in, I simply deleted them. When they came back, I blocked them. Each time, I swallowed my reaction down. Okay, this isn’t too bad. Some hate, but it’s the minority.
Then I heard from our sales team that someone declined to speak to us because of the Pride post on our Facebook page. And that’s when I feel a little bit sick.
In my experience, people who hold the harshest criticisms of marginalized groups usually stand far away from them. They don’t know any gay people. They don’t volunteer or work directly with Americans experiencing extreme poverty. They haven’t made a connection with a refugee.

So, hi. I am the gay person that posts the Pride content. I show my adult hunter in rainbow braids not just because he looks adorable in them, but because they mean something to me. My wife proposed to me by putting my engagement ring in my horse’s mane. She comes to shows and watches my rounds, and when I miss a distance, gives excellent commentary like, “Something happened there that didn’t look right… right?” She’s a social worker who works in homeless policy to keep people safe and off the streets, and I write for a living. We cook meals together and serve them at our church’s homeless outreach.
She is the kindest, most genuine person I know.
There are many places in this country where I am afraid to hold her hand in public.

In these turbulent political and social times, I have learned that I cannot change anyone’s mind about where they stand on the spectrum. And I don’t try. When I first started dating my now wife, happier and more in love than I had ever been in my life, I didn’t say a word as my close family member explained that my relationship was a sin against God that I would be going to hell for.
People are entitled to live and believe what they want. I am not here to lead a gay crusade. I am not going to fight or evangelize my belief system to try or tear down anyone else’s. When I see the news stories about anti-gay policies, hear doctrine damning my marriage, or delete a negative comment on social media, I hear, You’re not like us. You are wrong. You are not safe.
It takes a lot of work for gay people to encounter these things daily and not walk around constantly hating ourselves. But I refuse to hide or minimize my community so some people can feel more comfortable and in control.
I’ve had this question asked to my face before: “Why do you even need a Pride?”
Pride exists because LGBTQ+ people like me have always had to fight for visibility, dignity, and basic human rights. The first Pride march, held in 1970, wasn’t a parade but a demonstration—a demand to be seen and heard. Pride continues today to honor that legacy and the countless lives lost in the ongoing struggle for equality.
In 2025, LGBTQ+ rights are still under attack in the United States. Over 500 anti-LGBTQ+ bills were introduced in 2024 alone, many of them targeting trans youth, drag performers, and access to gender-affirming care. Books with LGBTQ+ characters are frequently banned from libraries. Teachers face punishment for affirming queer students or sharing their own queer identity. In many states, trans people are being restricted from using public bathrooms, participating in sports, or accessing medical care. Hate crimes, particularly against Black and Brown trans women, remain disproportionately high.
Do any of these issues directly crossover to the horse world? Not super directly. I’m very fortunate to say that even in Texas, I have never felt uncomfortable being with my wife at a horse show. She kisses me good luck, offers me my water bottle between rounds, and stuffs my horse full of cookies like any other horse show spouse. But Pride is still necessary because LGBTQ+ people are still fighting for the right to live openly, safely, and without fear.

I’m often conflicted about social media these days. It can feel like an overly commercialized highlight reel of inauthenticity, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. It’s also a way to share stories and experiences. That’s what we try to do at The Plaid Horse, give a platform for people ranging from the backyard rider with big dreams to the top professionals of our industry.
My identity as a gay person is part of my story.
I’m Lauren Mauldin. I’m happier and more comfortable in my body than I have ever been. I’m a newlywed to my soul mate, who is also a woman. I love horses and this bananas hunter/jumper sport. One day, I want to have a miniature donkey named “Donkey Oatie.”
I am terrified the state I live in will revoke same sex marriage.
I want to show my horse in a USHJA National Derby in 2026.
I want to be able to hold my wife’s hand in public and never be afraid.
At The Plaid Horse, we believe in amplifying diverse voices within the equestrian community. If you have a story to share about being part of the LGBTQ+ community in the horse world, we invite you to share it with us.

About the Author: Lauren holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from the University of California Riverside, and is a lifelong rider and writer. Through her writing she explores the intersections of mental health, equestrian lifestyle, and healing. She lives in Austin, Texas with her wife and furbabies and shows in the Adult Amateur hunters with her horse, Crusero.
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