Some people grow out of childhood phases.
Horse girls do not.
We simply age like fine wine…
if the wine were stored in a tack trunk,
covered in shavings,
and smelled faintly of liniment and fly spray.
We’re built differently.
We can spot a lame horse from 300 yards away—but walk straight into the pothole in front of us.
We can recite a horse’s full medical history, lineage,
favorite treat, enemies, and emotional triggers…
but lose our sunglasses while they’re sitting on top of our head.
We can back a trailer into a space the size of a shoebox in the dark, while being judged by three strangers and a horse—
but somehow the airport pickup line is the more dangerous sport.
We dress like we might need to ride at any moment.
Even if we’re going to Publix.
Even if we haven’t touched a horse in a decade.
Boots? Always.
Hair tie? Mandatory.
That faint smell of fly spray?
Not a phase. A lifestyle choice.
We don’t need directions.
We navigate using instinct,
landmarks that no longer exist,
and directions based on a horse trail we rode once in 1998.
We can confidently go in the wrong direction—
and still somehow arrive first.
Don’t question it.
We have two default settings.
Elegant equestrian goddess.
Or:
Looks like she lost a bar fight with a hay bale.
There is no third option.
We don’t scare easily.
We’ve handled 1,200-pound animals having full emotional breakdowns.
We’ve ridden through spooks, bolts, bucks,
and the sudden realization that the thing in the corner is, in fact, a leaf.
So no, that hostile email is not intimidating.
And yes, we did read the tone.
Yes… we still buy the boots.
Even if we don’t ride anymore.
Even if the closest we get to a barn some days is scrolling through old photographs and remembering the horses who carried us through different chapters of our lives.
Because the boots remind us
of the girl who trusted her instincts
and got back on when she fell.
Life has a way of bucking sideways.
Horse girls learn early that balance isn’t about perfection—it’s about staying with the ride.
Preferably in better boots.
Part of the Lessons from the Herd Series
Romancing the Herd 