Recently, after my third (amazingly fun and productive) riding lesson at a new barn, I dismounted, gave my horse an enthusiastic pat, and went to run up my stirrups only to find, to my shock, dismay, and horror, that I had given my perfect mount a spur rub.  It didn’t break the skin, but it was ugly and red - just the way you imagine a spur rub would look. It was about 2 inches long, and at a place lower on his belly than I thought my foot would even reach. I quickly ran around to his other flank to find (thankfully) nothing at all. But the high I experienced from the lesson evaporated into a cloud of shame as I loosened his girth and slowly walked him back into the barn.  As riders, this shame feels ever present sometimes. We’ve all been in the ring flatting with other people, sensing multiple sets of eyes on us as we canter to a pole and miss spectacularly. Or we know the exact sequence of aids to achieve an objective, and still flub it repeatedly. We’ve been yelled at by trainers who have told us we’re not good enough when we miss a lead change, or we don’t deserve that horse if we chip a jump, or what is wrong with us, it’s just ::insert desired outcome here::, it’s not rocket science.  Or, we’ve given our horse a spur rub.  The thing that makes the shame of mistakes in the saddle unique to other sports is that we’re not only feeling shame, but also guilt. When you’re out playing soccer, and you miss a penalty kick, or you’re running a race and trip, your mistake doesn’t have consequences past the ones you give it - the power is truly all up to you in terms of how much weight you allow that mistake to occupy in your mind. With horses, though, our mistakes don’t just affect us - they can bring discomfort, confusion, and sometimes even pain to our horses - the one piece of the equation who is supposed to always come first.   The thing to remember is that as uncomfortable as they are, mistakes are how you learn. Your brain makes progress not by putting down the correct pathway on the first try, but by rewriting the incorrect pathway to the correct one. The phrase “Those who can’t do, teach,” is pretty apt, as those who are naturally gifted at something usually make terrible teachers. They’ve never done it wrong, so how can they explain how to do it right beyond just telling you to “do it”?  As riders, our job is not to avoid mistakes at all costs, but to give ourselves the grace our horses usually do when they occur, and then capitalize on them. And since we’re ultimately accountable to our horses, we owe it to them to use our mistakes as opportunities to improve, rather than just allow our emotions to trap us in place. What can you alter in your approach? What can you do differently next time? Why did it happen in the first place? A mistake is a gateway to a wide variety of questions, each one with the potential to make you better both in and out of the saddle.  So while I of course felt no less terrible at giving my wonderful partner a spur rub, I didn’t allow my guilt to be the stopping point - I pushed past it to a place of how to learn from it and do better next time. I lowered my stirrup another hole, since this horse was much taller than the one I normally rode, and I had the feeling that my leg wasn’t in the correct position. I started to do balance and symmetry work on myself, since I had also a sneaking suspicion part of the problem was an imbalance in myself due to multiple past injuries. I bought myself a dressage whip to use in lieu of spurs until the wound healed and I was confident it wouldn’t happen again.  And of course, I gave my amazing lesson horse a treat, thanked him profusely, apologized, and promised to do better - knowing that because of my mistake, I definitely would. *image credit: Emma VanNostrand

When I think about riding in the winter, some version of the following comes to mind: Close down my computer around 4:30 and head out to the barn, watching the sun go down as I’m pulling into the driveway at 5.  Fumble my way out to the turnouts, try to discern the bay from the dark bay (all with blue blankets on, naturally) in the dusk. Finally locate horse and bring to the barn to get ready. Groom (muddy, hairy) horse (that’s never really clean) and debate how worthwhile scrubbing mud from hairy legs really is. Decide to curry them clean because I’m a good horse mom, after all. Tack up, head to the indoor arena that can fit approximately half of a crossrail on one long side, give myself a pump up talk and a reminder that I can always shed layers when I get warm (ha ha).  Give myself what feels like a good warm-up, walk trot canter. A few circles. Feeling good.  Check watch, thinking surely at least 30 minutes have passed and am dismayed to see that it’s barely been 8 minutes. Horse cocks one ear back to ask if we can be done yet. Only because I dread the knee/ankle shock that comes with dismounting on a cold day, I soldier on for a few more laps before giving in and finishing my ride feeling less than productive and very cold.  As a former resident of a region well on the receiving end of winter (the Midwest), I understand well the trepidation that accompanies impending season change.  This time of year is tough for horse people. Motivation wanes, and you find yourself hovering somewhere in between end of year burnout and start of year resolution mode. You wearily scroll through Instagram and see your horse friends and professionals you follow making the mass migration to Florida. Your horse is a wooly, static-popping mammoth that feels more like riding a camel hump than a horse after a week with no turnout because the snow won’t stop melting and making mud.  It’s funny, though, because on a recent phone catch-up with Equestrian Masterclass coach Laine Ashker (check out her most recent Guided Rides in the Equestrian Masterclass app! [Apple] [Google]) I lamented about this and she gave me a different perspective.  “You know, I actually don’t mind this time of year!” she chirped, reminding me that she spends very little time in Florida. As a pro who also runs and pays for her own facility, it’s hard to leave for several months at a time. So she chooses certain periods to go to Wellington or Ocala, but stays north in Virginia for the majority of the winter. I immediately found myself readjusting my doom and gloom attitude to meet her more in the middle. “Oh sure, sure,” I stumbled, not wanting to be the downer. “I mean, it’s also a great time to practice!” Laine went on to explain how she enjoys having this period of time where she can practice things that need work or introduce new concepts without the constant looming pressure of competition. As a professional eventing and dressage rider, Laine’s got a full calendar of competitions and clinics each year, and so this “off season” gives her the opportunity to slow down and work on the things we all need eternal practice with.  I thought about this point of view, and how it applies to  the scenario I wrote about at the beginning of this article; what I discovered is that most of the winter, what I suffer from is lack of motivation and planning. Most of my winter rides felt unproductive because I didn’t have a good plan for what I wanted to work on. I would drag my feet to go ride because it felt like I wouldn’t “get” anything out of the work, and neither would my horse.  I left that conversation with Laine thinking about how I could bring some of these thoughts into the materials I create for Equestrian Masterclass. I wanted to build something that would resonate with my fellow amateurs who dread the winter season and all that comes with it, while also giving us a positive goal to keep us motivated.  In early January, I’ll share our newest offering from Equestrian Masterclass in the form of a unique, 12-week training program designed to help us all get through the winter months. I wanted to give equestrians the opportunity to brush up on foundational skills, strengthen their bond with their horses, and learn some new skills. It’ll also provide a chance to bond (commiserate?) with other equestrians in similar situations – isn’t that where the strongest bonds are made, after all? We’re looking forward to sharing this with you! Existing Equestrian Masterclass members will automatically gain access to this Training Program – and right now you can get a full membership for $100 off during our Holiday Sale!

NOËLLE FLOYD is seeking a talented and detail-oriented Digital Content Creator to join our dynamic team on a part-time basis. The Digital Content Creator will play a crucial role in ensuring that our multimedia content, including videos and images, meets our high standards for quality and visual storytelling. If you have a passion for equestrian sports, a keen eye for detail, and experience in video and image editing, we want to hear from you.  Job Title: Digital Content CreatorLocation: RemoteJob Type: Part-Time Key Responsibilities: Video Editing: Edit and enhance video content, ensuring it aligns with NOËLLE FLOYD's brand and storytelling style. This includes trimming, cutting, color correction, audio adjustment, and adding graphics or text overlays when necessary. Image Editing: Retouch and optimize images for use on our website and social media platforms. Ensure that all visuals maintain consistency in style and quality. Capturing Images/Video Footage: Capture high-quality photographs and/or video footage. This may involve different types of photography or videography, such as portrait, landscape, event, documentary, commercial, or artistic work. (Bonus for those who have a barn they can shoot at) Collaboration: Work closely with our team to best understand our creative vision and assist in achieving the desired look and feel for our multimedia content. Quality Control: Conduct quality checks to ensure that all media assets are error-free, meet our editorial standards, and are ready for publication. File Management: Organize and maintain media files in an organized and accessible manner, adhering to our file naming conventions and storage systems. Stay Current: Keep up-to-date with industry trends and emerging editing techniques to continuously improve the quality and impact of our multimedia content. Qualifications: Proven experience in video and image editing, with proficiency in industry-standard editing software such as Adobe Premiere Pro, Final Cut Pro, Adobe Photoshop, and Adobe Lightroom. A strong portfolio showcasing your photography, videography, editing skills and creativity, particularly in the realm of multimedia content. A passion for equestrian sports and a solid understanding of the NOËLLE FLOYD brand and style. Exceptional attention to detail and the ability to work independently, meet deadlines, and manage multiple projects simultaneously. Excellent communication skills, as you will collaborate with our remote team. Availability to work part-time hours in a remote setting, with a flexible schedule. About NOËLLE FLOYD: Launched in 2012 as a blog, NOËLLE FLOYD is one of the most recognizable equine media brands in the world. With the major success of their educational platform, Equestrian Masterclass, and the overwhelming response to the launch of their podcast, Equestrian Voices, NOËLLE FLOYD is now considered to be the fastest growing equine media company in the industry.  Known for high production value, award-winning digital media products, innovative storytelling and relatable content, NOËLLE FLOYD is leading the charge when it comes to equine media content. Our leading product, Equestrian Masterclass is focused on offering online equestrian education aimed to empower riders with the tools to be the best rider they can be.  Collaborating with some of the best teachers, clinicians and minds within the equestrian world, Equestrian Masterclass has become one of the leading platforms in online equestrian education and #1 in North America.  Equestrian Voices, launched in 2021, now ranked #1 in the world for equestrian podcasts. Our three time award-winning podcast dives deep into the emotions, lives and stories of equestrians. Each episode brings the intention of heart-felt and meaningful conversation about the realities of riders from all backgrounds. Hosted by Caroline Culbertson, our podcast gets to the 'human' of all horse people. How to Apply: If you are enthusiastic about the equestrian world and possess the skills and passion to contribute to NOËLLE FLOYD's media excellence, please send your resume, portfolio, and a cover letter detailing your relevant experience and why you are the ideal candidate for this position to hiring@noëllefloyd.com    NOËLLE FLOYD is an equal opportunity employer, and we encourage candidates of all backgrounds to apply. 

If a horse can feel a fly land on his flank, he can feel the slightest aid from the rider. If you’re an equestrian, you’ve likely heard some version of the above statement. It’s true: horses are incredibly sensitive creatures, capable of feeling even the subtlest shifts in energy or weight from their rider.  Why, then, do so many of us struggle to achieve real responsiveness to our aids? If my horse can feel my aid, then why isn’t he listening?  We enlisted the help of U.S. dressage Olympian Laura Graves, who shared her philosophy on responsiveness to the aids in a new Equestrian Masterclass 3-part series.  Laura knows a thing or two about creating a stellar horse from scratch. Growing up in Vermont, life was all about riding whatever horses came her way. “I never had a ‘dressage’ horse or a ‘jumping’ horse. I just had a horse,” she explains. “We had free horses, we had horses that were dangerous for other people, we had horses that would bolt.”  Having this “motley crew” of different types of horses, each with their own baggage, taught Laura to love the process of training and understanding each horse that came to her. After dipping her toes in other disciplines such as three-day eventing, she eventually found herself drawn back to dressage for its refinement of the skills she had picked up along the way.  “It just became a super complex relationship and language that I was hooked on,” Laura says. Those skills would serve her well as she got to know Verdades, the horse purchased as a foal when Laura was just 15. In the beginning, “Diddy” was far from the Olympic superstar he grew to be. He had a unique conformation – he was half Dutch harness horse, after all! – and way of going, and as a result Laura had to use all of her skills to produce the best movement from her horse.  For Laura, training horses like Verdades requires an understanding and empathy toward each horse’s individuality.  So, how does this relate to teaching a horse to be responsive to the aids? As riders, we have all built up a database of knowledge. Thanks to the amount of readily available information now at our fingertips, it’s easier than ever to maintain a sense of curiosity about training and communicating with horses. After all, that is exactly what training responsiveness entails: understanding and communication.  Laura uses a "teeter-totter" analogy in her Equestrian Masterclass on Responsiveness to Aids. Before we can progress with creating a well-tuned horse, we must first understand a few fundamentals:  First, we must make sure that we are in check with our position and the delivery of our aids. In the first course of Laura’s Equestrian Masterclass, you’ll go through a self-diagnostic ride to check in on your position and how your horse currently responds to aids you deliver.  Second, we need to understand how our aids relate to how our horses travel. In her Equestrian Masterclass course, Laura uses the analogy of a teeter-totter and how a rider’s leg and hand aids must strike a balance between the two ends. A correct response to aid is important not just in a competitive landscape, but also for long term soundness and longevity, as a horse that travels correctly, in balance and self-carriage, will not put as much wear and tear on her limbs and tendons. Third, we must meet our horses where they are in that moment. Not every horse will respond to every aid in the same way, and not every horse learns or is motivated similarly. At any given stage in a horse’s training, they have options to pull from their “box of answers” to a question (aid) posed by the rider. As the horse progresses in her training, her box of answers will get smaller. In this way, we are able to train more technical movements. Laura’s methodology for creating a responsiveness to aids comes from her extensive background working with all different types of horses. The language she speaks is simple yet complex, subtle yet clear.  In her three-part Equestrian Masterclass series, Laura will teach and demonstrate the concepts she refers to, at the core always encouraging students to learn more about their horses and work to gain a better understanding of them. Through this, we can work through frustration with a sense of curiosity and arrive in a stronger relationship with our horse.  Want to dive deep into Laura’s training philosophy and learn which exercises she uses to develop a horse and their responsiveness?  Then make sure you check out her newest Masterclass.  In this series, you’re going to learn… ✅ How to be a teacher for your horse ✅ Why dressage is an important foundation for all disciplines  ✅​​ ​​What a correct response is from your horse and how to achieve it ✅ Learn what important tools are needed for a proper flatwork foundation ✅ Why getting frustrated at your horse gets you nowhere and what you should do instead ✅ How to bring out the best in your horse ✅ What to do if you ride a hot horse, dull horse, and everything in between ✅ Why cavalettis aid in essential flatwork ✅ Identifying your horse’s personality is key to have successful communication together ✅ How pressure and release play a crucial part in your horses training Ready to get access? CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT LAURA’S NEW MASTERCLASS.  Since its release, hundreds of dressage riders have been raving about it’s impact on their riding, and their understanding of their horse.

Our sport of three-day eventing requires a lot of skills to be successful and competitive, but there’s one that’s pretty easy to guess: you (and your horse) have to be brave.  The idea of being “brave” can be interpreted a lot of different ways, and not all of them mean the same thing. You’ll notice I referred to bravery at the beginning of this article as a skill, and truthfully that’s what I believe it is. Throughout my career as an Olympic eventing rider, I’ve been called a lot of things: “gung-ho”, “bold”, “crazy”, “wild”,  and yes, “brave”. But, while I may always love the adrenaline pumping, I also wouldn’t say I was “born brave”.  At the end of the day, bravery isn’t just some wild concept that we’re somehow either born with or we’re not. That’s really not true. Bravery is something you can learn to create over time. . Now, it’s good to remember that I grew up in Australia, and I didn’t begin riding at a fancy farm or at a million-dollar facility. My very first pony, a good old boy named “Willy Do It” or “Willy” at home, learned how to jump cross country in my own backyard over random debris and fallen logs I would ask my parents not to clean up after big storms. I was an adventurous kid, sure, but a lot of my confidence in the saddle came from the time I spent making mistakes and learning from them. I realized pretty quickly if I could have a good, solid relationship with Willy, where he trusted me and my judgment, he’d do just about anything I asked him to do.  When you have a horse willing to do what you’re asking, it gives you a lot of confidence, and ultimately, that turns into bravery for both you and your horse.  So this is where it begins. Yes, some of us seem to be more enthusiastic about taking on risks and participating in more dangerous activities, which truthfully is something that runs in my family on all sides, while others approach life more cautiously. Both of these types of people, and every type in between, can still be brave and build confidence in their skills.  My new Equestrian Masterclass, now available on Noelle Floyd, is all about the idea of “building bravery”.  This is an important topic to me for a lot of reasons. In my travels teaching clinics all over the world, I meet many riders who feel like they will never be brave enough to tackle a demanding cross country course, whether that’s at Beginner Novice or Advanced. I wanted to provide some tools that would help any rider create their own sense of bravery in the saddle, and the result is the information in this Masterclass. Personally, when I’m at my bravest as a rider and a competitor, I feel these three things, no matter the level I’m competing:  I am Competent in my skills. I have practiced and repeated the exercises I need to in order to feel strong and confident in my position, which in turn allows me to communicate better with my horse.  I am Prepared for competition and the challenges it may present. There’s not much that can give you more confidence than going out to walk a cross country course and realizing you’ve practiced harder things at home with success. Confidence and bravery go hand-in-hand with the preparation.  I have encouraged my horse to think for himself. One of the greatest and most rewarding parts of being horsemen is the amount of time you get to spend with your animals. You come to understand their quirks and what makes them feel confident in themselves and in you as the rider. We always want our horses to enjoy their jobs and to understand what we are asking. If we have a horse that can think for himself, it reduces the amount of micromanagement that happens during our ride.  The riders I always want to emulate look like they are doing nothing in the saddle. This quiet style of riding is something that gives me a lot of confidence, because it means I’ve done my homework and I can just be one with my horse out there. Riding shouldn’t be a “yank and pull” effort, it should be smooth and polished. The less managing you have to do, the better prepared you will be to react in the moment if things don’t go according to your plan.  All of these skills, in my opinion, build bravery. Of course, bravery also isn’t a magical wand that you can suddenly wave and you have no fear. That actually isn’t a great way of thinking, if you ask me.  I’m not fearless by any means. I have tremendous respect for the risks I am taking, and the risks my horses are taking when we step out on a course.  Out of that respect, I always go back to the three pillars of bravery for me - competence, preparation, and knowing I’m on a horse who knows how to think.  These tools give me the best chance to go out there and not only be competitive, but also be safe and brave, which is what everyone should be aiming for every time they get a leg up.  Want to dive deeper into Boyd Martin’s training philosophy and program?  Then check out his latest 3-part Equestrian Masterclass Series.  Access 3 in-depth Masterclasses taught by Boyd Martin & learn his systematic process for developing bravery through competence, preparation and creating a thinking horse. In this series, you’ll learn… ✅ How to develop bravery and confidence in the saddle while jumping ✅ What are the core the elements of bravery ✅ What the difference is between being scared vs reckless and finding that happy medium ✅ How to visualize what a ‘correct’ galloping position looks like and what doesn’t ✅ Why security and stability is important to feeling secure on your horse ✅ How to practice different cross-country and show jumping exercises to prepare yourself for competition ✅ How to introduce young horses to cross-country fences and elements  ✅ Why you should be making more mistakes ✅ Why it’s important to teach the horse to still get the job done Since releasing this Masterclass, eventing riders (and even riders from other disciplines) have been raving about the impact it’s had on their riding.  CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BOYD MARTIN’S MASTERCLASS SERIES.

It’s funny how when you don’t have something, you notice more about it.  I would consider myself to be an eternally curious type of person. I’ve never had much interest in teaching, coaching, or otherwise acting as an authority on a subject, partly due to a severe case of imposter syndrome that invades every part of my being most days, and partly due to the fact that I simply prefer to be a student.  But what I wouldn’t have guessed is that I would actually learn more being a non-rider than I would being an active rider. Well, I should rephrase that. There is no replacement for time in the saddle and time around horses. That is an inarguable fact. However, I also think much education can be gained from simply being an unbiased, unattached observer. On set with Boyd Martin. Like I said, you notice more about something that you no longer have. In lieu of riding time, I learn everything I can from the sidelines. I began working for a 5* event rider, managing her social media and sponsor relations, in part so I could, in my own way, learn from her. Who wouldn’t want a free pass to sit ringside watching a professional ride or teach? I ask her questions, taking notes on my phone, building my knowledge base for the next time I get on a horse. I’m lucky enough to have a career inside the sport of eventing, where I frequently get to pick the brains of the best riders in the world. I watch the warm-up at a big competition more closely than I watch the competition itself. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t come away learning something I didn’t know before.  This method of “distance learning” isn’t new for me. I remember a ten-year-old version of myself reading a British book about basic riding, tack, and horse management in my basement. I hadn’t been allowed to pursue riding lessons, so I’d rig up my parents’ old workout bench to “practice” the posting trot, doing this enough that eventually when I rode a horse for the first time I was at least familiar with what I was supposed to do. In some ways, I think I’ve spent more time learning about riding than actually riding (does that make me sad? I’m not sure). When I didn’t have access to riding, I did have access to learning.  Finally making use of all of those hours of reading. Being on the sidelines isn’t always fun, especially when it’s not necessarily by choice. But I learned a long time ago that I am quite prone to taking on more than I can handle, and I’m unwilling to put myself into that position anymore. In the meantime, I’ll happily be a sponge, and you can find me at the warm-up, unabashedly hoarding those invaluable nuggets of knowledge until the next time I can put them into practice.

Ten days before my last post was released, my dad passed away. I didn’t know what forever felt like until that day. I find that the only thing I want to write about is him so, here is my dedication to my Papa, who let me dream and taught me patience. The reason I can be brave and the only person in the world I want to make proud right now. The morning I got the call, I was alone. It was five in the morning. It was German summer and the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the buildings across the courtyard. It was a Saturday morning, and I began to hastily pack a suitcase unsure for how long, unsure for what, unsure of why. I was five hours from my nearest family member. I got on the next train to be with my aunt and grandparents. During the whirlwind of packing my life together I had to tell my brother. I had to tell my aunt. I had to call my best friend in the bathroom of the train and listen to each person's sincere and utter shock over the phone...alone.  It’s not something anyone had planned for, including my dad. He was 58.   The first word that comes to mind when I think of my dad is patience. He never let anything get under his skin except maybe sometimes my oldest brother, Paul. Other than that, I never once saw him raise his voice at anyone or anything. I’ve seen that same trait in the best horse trainers in the world.  My dad didn't start his career until he was in his 40's. He spent a lot of time figuring out what he was truly passionate about before he picked his thing. He always reminded me that through trust, patience, and if you pick your path and stick with it, you will succeed. I’ve really tried to keep that with me in the months after his passing.  Having yet another life change of a major move makes me lose patience. It makes me want to rush ahead through my twenties to the point where I really have it all figured out. I am not naive enough to really think that that this will happen, but it’s worth the thought. Read this next: "There’s a Key to Happiness for Every Horse": Finding the Management Your Horse Needs with Dr. Paul McClellan. It’s times like these that I try to gather that inspiration from my dad to give me the faith to stay true to my path. My dad taught me that through patience and faith you'll get where you want to go. It’s not through force or strength which parallels to how we handle horses. In that same vein, my father was persistent about his goals. He didn’t let his age, his money, or anything hold him back. He was a master at long-term goals (and a master at waiting on them). This is straight out of my eulogy for my dad:  “Ever since I’ve been able to remember a WiFi password, ours has been the same: DragonflyDF28. If you don’t know the significance of that, it was his dream sailboat. A Dragonfly 28. A trimaran and a racing boat. Finally, in 2019 he got one.” That’s all we can do with horses. Not force, but move forward in a true manner. We have to trust that the right way will prevail. That the true way will bring the results we need. Even if those results are just relaxation and harmony, that’s the greatest result you can hope for! Everything else is unimportant.  Two days after my father died, I was on a plane home with my brother, Henry. I entered an environment of pure support and protection. It was the exact thing I needed and the only thing I could imagine. So many people came together to help my family. We mourned and celebrated and laughed and sobbed. It seems crazy to say, but I miss that time. It was so fresh—  my grief never felt like a burden. Even now —10 months later — I worry about showing my sadness. Even in front of my family. I never want to be the reason for shattering someone's fragile foundation of "okay-ness". So, sometimes I long for the first days, moments, and weeks after it happened. The funny thing though is that the horses never seem to mind.  I stayed home with my family for two months. There was so much to sort out from the life he left behind. When I finally went back to Germany, I felt so far away and so lonely. I found that even though I was surrounded by people I loved, none of them knew him. I couldn’t be in the presence of people that felt my pain and that was really difficult.  The last time I shared an update, I had just decided to go back to school with the goal of going to graduate school to further understand horses. This idea had come to me during a conversation with my dad. Before my dad died and several months after, my plan was to attend university full-time in Germany. I had been accepted and everything was in order. I was ready to be a “normal person”, and give up horses full-time.  As life tends to do, I was working for an understanding employer when I got the news. I see now that it could have only happened the way it did and had I been at any other of my previous jobs, I would have lost relationships because of what I had to do to support my family.  Two months later, I returned to that job where I was planning to stay until my start date for University in October.   On my dad’s birthday, August 21st, I called my mom. She was at home, and friends were over. She said, “Oh, Grandmama, Sharon, and Ele are in the kitchen!” That was the exact moment I realized what I had to do. That day I decided to move back to the United States. I desperately wanted his community around me.  I came to Wellington, Florida with the same person I worked for in Germany as her head groom. I am still attending school, and I am still pursuing my biology degree in the hopes of going to graduate school for Animal Behavior. I’m still spending every day with horses, back to the equilibrium I tend to fall back to, no matter what happens.  It all ties back to horses. Maybe a week after my dad died, I went to the therapeutic riding center my mom works at, Charleston Area Therapeutic Riding, and spent some time with the horses. They had the summer off and I was lucky enough to work with a few. One of them was brand new to therapeutic riding and I helped him get acclimated. Without a doubt, horses moved me through that time. They were such good listeners and the best teachers of grief. The patience my father had taught me, the horses were returning. I never feel pressure from them to perform or behave in a certain way. In my experience, grief ebbs and flows in no particular rhythm and horses are the only ones that don’t seem to mind. The more I move through life, the more I know that horses are what my life is destined to revolve around. Even though my dad knew nothing about horses, he would be the first one to cheer me on further down this path. His kindness and patience were my first inspirations to delve into this world and they'll be the last.  Even though he’s gone, I know he would want me to keep going. His perseverance and drive  will be what continues to inspire me day in and day out. [LISTEN]: Creating Openness and Growth in the Trainer/Student Relationship (Part 1) Written by Juliette Cain Juliette Cain is a 23-year-old dressage rider who won NAYC Jr Team Gold in 2018. She's documenting her journey with horses involving moves across the world, from the USA to Germany, and back, on NOELLEFLOYD.com.