From Ballerina to Horseback: A Journey of Rediscovery

I’m Ella’s mom. Here is a little story.

At the delicate age of four, I had two big loves—ballet shoes and horses. A big decision for a little girl! The grownups said you could kill yourself on a horse; besides, you had to use the muscles that were contrary to ballet just to stay on the animal! (They never did say you could kill yourself doing ballet, which, in hindsight, is pretty funny, considering what it takes to be a ballerina!) I chose ballet, and I slept with my beautiful coffee table book, All the Horses of the World.

 

 

I became a ballerina, and I only wavered a few times when we were on tour in Washington. My friend Nina and I would slip out and rent horses. We took our hair out of our plastered buns, let it loose, and rode like the wind for hours! We came back for the evening performance with guilty hearts but renewed life and vigor. This went on for some years without us getting caught. I married and had children. It wasn’t until the age of 40 that I went through a definite midlife crisis. My family, whom I devoted most of my young adult years to raising, literally fell out from under me. I had to redefine and try to salvage what I could, all the while keeping my sanity and belief that the world was still a good place and that no one is handed too much to handle in their lifetime.

 

 

I had dallied in a garden on our small hilltop of 8 acres in LA. I had ducks, rabbits, a few beloved goats, dogs, cats, chickens, and I knew it was time for my four-year-old self to get one more chance to make another big decision! I didn’t know the first thing about what it took to keep a horse—no upkeep, training, riding, feeding, cleaning... you get the picture. I decided I needed to have a horse, and I needed her now. “Her” came in the form of my beloved quarter horse, Lucy. I might add that I was quite pregnant with Ella at this point and had six children, ages 16 and down.

 

 

Lucy did not love me for an entire year, and I didn’t love her, but my dream was to have a horse who would walk down the dirt driveway, into the wash, and ride up to the mountains for hours alone. She needed to be perfectly behaved, and I had to teach her to do this by myself, without help. Those were my rules. For the entire first year, we would stand on the dirt road looking at the entrance to the wash—the magical place where we could run free, see coyotes, and trot through streams. I would ask her to go forward; she wouldn’t budge. I would ask her a little more forcefully; she gave me the stink eye. I would DEMAND that she move forward, but instead, she walked backward. She stayed still as a piece of cement. I got angry. I kicked her. “Nope, sorry!” I heard her say, “You ain’t got nothing on me. You are going to have to work a helluva lot harder to get me to go anywhere but straight back to my food. You’re gonna have to figure out a helluva lot more about yourself and your little life before I do what you’re telling me to do!”

 

 

Then one day, she walked forward. I cried. I thought, “Oh my... I actually can do something besides cook, clean, police, and make sure everyone stays alive. I can do this thing myself, by myself! There are seven of my most beloved small beings waiting for me back home to get with the program, but I have this secret! This enormous gorgeous animal and this plan that is actually going to work! It will lead to adventure and solace and calm in the eye of my storm.

 

 

We didn’t go out to the wash that day or the next day, but soon we trusted each other enough to start taking the tentative steps to having a long journey together that would bring us peace, exercise, meditation, and mostly... confidence. I would slip out of bed, unlatch myself from little Ella nursing at 4:30 a.m., sneak down to Lucy in the pitch dark, saddle her up, and go! I’d be back just as everyone was waking. One time, I rode high up into the mountains by myself, so afraid because of all I’d read, but so joyful that I had tears the entire trip! With Lucy, I fell off twice, hard and fast, and really did get back on, and I was proud of myself. I taught my kids how to clean the stalls, feed, lunge, and ride. I had Ella on my back doing the horse chores, as we had a pony too, and Lucy had a beautiful baby named Arabella. Ruby and I decorated her for the Christmas parade with ribbons. I’d ride down to the big arena and race around the barrels. I had no idea what I was doing, but Lucy knew, and soon we were in sync. I trailered her up to our mountain home when we left LA, and I rode many hours by myself with her, so grateful for the challenge, the smells, the forest, and the calm. Lucy gave me a whole new life. I learned that I could learn what I wanted to, and I could actually do what I thought maybe only could be a dream. I had lost a lot of myself and my confidence over the years in the ballet world and in my marriage, which was very confusing. I always had my children, my loves, to keep me grounded, and this horse gave me her trust and her soul. I will always have her in my heart and memory. She changed my life in ways I never imagined and shaped my children’s lives around horses too. Today, my girls train, ride, rein, and care for horses with a very special grace and innate knowledge that is their very own. I’m so happy we got to share those years of learning and loving our horses together. And yes... if you feel that joyful spark and wonder if you can “do your horse thing”?! I can tell you the answer is absolutely YES!! ❤️

 

With love,

Barbara