My Hero's Journey

I kept my pleasure and dream of horse racing for 2 years. At age 7 my mom still didn’t know. When I got my horse Electra 2 years ago I told her my dream and she shook her head saying “ absolutely not Hannah. You are a lady and a lady does not race, it isn’t proper. You are to ride this horse slow and with elegance. “ I replied with a frown “yes mom” but inside I was outraged. I couldn’t believe

Throughout my life I have lived and breathed with horses. They are a part of me and I wouldn’t be myself without them, but it wasn’t until I got my horse Brush that I fully formed a unified connection with them. Some family friends had recently had a couple of colts born and let me take one home so I could begin training them. There was three different horses that I could choose from, but only one connected to me. His name was Brush. Looking back I never would have thought we would have the relationship we have now.

I am utterly terrified. I am alone. I feel lost. If you want me to let you in, here it is. I'm terrified you are going to leave me. I'm scared one day you're just gonna leave me on read for days on end, and then ignore my texts, side my calls and no longer be there for me. I'm scared Spencer is going to leave me just like Alea did. I'm scared he will realise how utterly broken on the inside I am. Who wants the anorexic girl? Who can love someone who can't even love herself? I have no mirrors in my room for a reason. When I do my makeup, I rush it just so I don't have to look at my ugly face. But I'm a great actor, aren't I? I can fake it. I can fake my confidence so much that I will believe myself, up until I spot my reflection. That is the

When I was a young child I always dreamed of having a magnificent spotted horse. As I grew older my love and want for a horse only intensified. Around the age of 15 on a bright warm sunny day my grandmother called me and said, " I have a surprise for you; I have arranged for you to start riding horses at one of my friend's barns." As I heard those pleasing words come out of my grandmothers mouth I almost could not contain my excitement. I couldn't wait to start riding a hose, a real hors; this is what I've always dreamed of.  When I had gotten there on that beautiful Saturday, I walked through the glass door and entered a room that had huge bay windows. These wondrous windows gave me a peek into my new lifestyle, as I opened the old wooden door a gust of air filled my nose with a very odd yet satisfying smell. This smell is the smell of horses and fresh air, which grew excitement in my heart. My focus turned to a medium size woman standing in the middle of the dirt arena, she had her curly black-brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. This woman greeted my grandmother and me by saying, " hello my name is Debby I am the riding instructor here, I will be teaching how to ride and handle a horse."

Kate, a professional rider, had three horses lined up for me to ride. The first was a young mare, about eight years old, a well muscled chestnut with plenty of competition experience. I rode her up into the grassy field beside the barn. Kate instructed me on this horse for about 20 minutes.

When I was 10 my dreams came true and I got my first horse. Her name was Shesha, she was only a 23 years old, jet black, quarter horse. The first time I let her in the arena to play she ran, bucked and rolled. It was really fun to watch. After she played for quite a while i decided to try and chach her, it didn’t quite work out that way, she ran away from me for quite awhile until I decided to grabbed a carrot and broke it in half with that i found out that she really liked carrots because when she heard that sound she actually came over to me to eat the carrot. Which was so nice to find out.

Not waiting for a response from her grandfather, she launched into an explanation of her imaginary horse’s most recent adventure. Midnight had been lost in a snowstorm, trapped in the woods for three whole days with no blanket to keep him warm at night. “He was such a smart, brave horse, Grandpa, that he managed to find his way home” the granddaughter chirped. “I left him apples and carrots on the kitchen table last night, and when I woke up this morning, Midnight had eaten everything but the apple core!” The child’s grandfather just chuckled. “That crazy horse!” he said.

It was my first horse show. The crowd clapped and cheered as the first competitor entered the course. I felt like the time wasn’t passing, I could only see one competitor entering and never going out, but I knew the time was getting closer. I got on the horse and rode rapidly to the paddock. I was nervous, I could feel butterflies in the stomach, but I knew I could finish that course. So I started trotting, then galloping, and I went to the paddock jump.

Every little girl at one point or another dreams of owning a horse. I grew up around horses, I rode many at my Aunt’s house, and as a child I rode them at my Grandma and Grandpa’s property. I felt that I was missing out on something because I didn’t have one of my own.

I lead him by leather reins to the outdoor ring where my trainer would see him work for the first time. He trotted circles around me and spooked at the wind. I returned to the barn and let him run and buck so he could burn off extra energy. When I heard my trainer’s golf cart stop in front of the barn, I caught him and prepared to mount. My trainer arrived and held his bridle while I put my foot in the stirrup. When foot made contact with iron, the horse bolted. He spun himself in circles around my trainer while I balanced half on, half off struggling to find the saddle and my balance. As soon as I was seated, the horse was loose. I gathered my reins and sat as calmly as I could. Suddenly, he bucked and threw me forward. As I fell onto his neck, he continued bucking. My trainer yelled, “Sit up! Pick his head up!” I was able to do neither. When I fell, the cold ground greeted me with a slap. I struggled to slowly stand as I clung to my now wet

I looked out into the field at our four horses. Two of them were mine, the other two were my dad and brother 's. (Technically I didn 't pay for my two horses, but my dad lets me call them mine.) One was a tiny brown and white spotted pony named Stormy, my first pony, the other a mostly brown appaloosa horse with a white butt named Ziggy. Both have minds of their own, but how was I to know that Ziggy was going to totally lose his mind today. The only vivid memory I have of the rest of the day was walking out into the field to catch my

I sat perched on a horse, named Sysco, waiting as the rest of the group in the arena mounted. I looked out at the sight I never got sick of, a horse’s neck up. I saw the two ears, mane, forelock, and head. The silky mane just waiting to be brushed. The face that is the best part of a horse, with it’s dark, caring eyes waiting to know what you are about to do, and it’s mouth that munches on sweet treats and hay. The bridle leading to my hands, the horn, and the front of the Western saddle were also in the beautiful sight in front of me.

Then, as though something had awoken inside me, I pulled a little harder to the left and the horse’s head actually turned. I nudged its side while steering, willing the horse to change direction. The cool air and rushing of the river was starting to calm me down. My horse walked towards the rest of the group, most of whom were also having issues with their horses. When we had all formed a line and were heading out. I was still a bit nervous, but then it hit me. I had more experience than most of the people riding horses. I could do most things on a horse; walk, trot, canter, stop, turn. That was all I really needed. I smiled to myself. It was going to be okay. With the soothing sounds of the river and forest, the fresh breeze on my face, I felt like, as long as the horses didn’t get scared and start galloping, I would be fine. I started to space out, not concentrating on keeping my back straight, or keeping my hips, neck, and ankles in line. I was too busy looking around and stroking my horses warm, soft neck. My saddle lured me into a dazed state - I wasn’t really thinking about anything, and since I had no one to talk to, I

Hi, I am Anna. I am a thirteen year girl who is fearless, but cautious. My horse, as you know, is Cowboy. He is a fast, quarter horse, mustang mix. On a Thursday afternoon, I told my mom I was going out for a quick ride. I saddled my horse up and, as I usually do, put a bucket and a water bottle on the side of the saddle, just in case I ever got lost. I thought I never would, but I strapped it on anyway. In the bucket was a couple of snacks for me and some snacks for Cowboy. I was even almost positive nothing would ever go wrong. But, was I wrong?

I remember that one summer evening that scared the living bejesus out of me and could’ve put me in the hospital like it was yesterday. The person that made me get back on and ride, my greatest influence. Her name is Tara, she’s my coach, and I look up to her because she’s a diligent worker and pushes everyone in my lesson to do our best. It was a typical summer evening on a Friday, the day I have all my lessons, and the day I fell off my horse.