Photo by georgina_miller_photography
For a long time, I didn’t really know who I was.
I didn’t always feel safe around people, especially men. Deep inside, I also carried a fear that I might not be safe for women.
When I was four years old, I witnessed something no child should ever have to see. I saw my father abusing my babysitter.
I was too young to understand what was happening, but the experience stayed with me. For many years, I carried feelings I couldn’t explain. I struggled to understand myself, my fears, and the person I was becoming.
Then there were the horses.
The horses never asked me to be someone else. They didn’t care about my past, my mistakes, or the pain I carried. They met me exactly where I was.
If I was afraid, they responded. If I was disconnected from myself or trying to control everything, they responded too.
With them, I began to understand myself in a different way. I learned to be present, listen to my feelings, and face what was happening inside me.
Slowly, I realised something important.
I was not my past. I was not my trauma. And I was not destined to become the person I had seen in my father.
I had my own DNA, my own personality, my own energy, and my own choices. I could choose the man I wanted to become.
But there was no miracle. No magic moment when everything suddenly changed.
My journey took many years. I had the privilege of working with great psychologists and, later, excellent mental coaches. I am deeply grateful for their support.
But throughout those years, one presence remained constant.
The horses were my number one support, and they continue to support me to this day.
They helped me reconnect with myself, again and again. They never gave me all the answers. They simply met me where I was and helped me discover what I needed.
As I began to understand myself better, I also became better able to help others.
Today, the majority of my clients are men and women who have experienced abuse. Many carry painful experiences that affect how they see themselves, how they trust others, and how they live their lives.
My way of helping is to connect people with horses and allow the power of that connection to guide them toward what they need.
I don’t tell people who they are or what they should discover. I create a space where they can connect with the horses, become more aware of themselves, and find their own answers.
Every person is different. Every journey is unique.
My role is not to lead people toward a destination I have chosen for them. It is to connect them with the horses and let the experience unfold.
This is what the horses did for me. They didn’t tell me who to become. They helped me reconnect with myself so I could choose my own path.
That little boy who witnessed something he couldn’t understand is still part of me. I cannot change what happened to him, but today I can stand beside him, protect him, and give him the love he needed.
I can choose a different future.
The horses didn’t change my DNA. They didn’t erase my past or magically heal my wounds.
They helped me reconnect with the person who had always been there.
My psychologists helped me understand. My mental coaches helped me grow. And the horses supported me throughout the journey.
They still do.
For that, I will always be grateful.
Sometimes, the greatest gift a horse can give us is not the chance to become someone new, but the courage to discover who we truly are.
