Ugly Thoughts
Published by Cari Zancanelli under on 5:33 AM
It's been awhile since I last wrote anything - not for lack of desire, though. The thoughts and ideas are always there but getting them down is sometimes a challenge. When it comes to writing about horses it's also fraught with all kinds of emotions and feelings and "shoulds".
I don't know about anyone else out there, but I think it's time to talk a walk on the ugly side of horsemanship. No, not abuse of horses - abuse of the self. I'm a very deep person, an introvert. I tend to have a few close friends and they are people I trust completely. My horses have a lot of meaning for me. It was something that the first time I saw one I had to get closer. I wanted to ride, to groom, to feed and to hang out. In my family I was the only one who really loved horses. My brother Mark likes them, but it's not the abiding love. That's ok, though. The point is, he is my half brother and I grew up with my Mom and step-Father in Hawaii who knew little about horses. Growing up there they seemed so far away, unattainable. I never asked to take riding lessons or anything because I assumed it was too expensive.
You see? The guilt was already starting. "Too expensive" I thought. Then I wouldn't find out that I was not a real horseman. That was also part of the fear. It's the original fear, in fact. Everything else stems from that, that you aren't good enough. Once I finally took riding lessons at age 24 I poured my heart and soul into it while others were out to have a good time or "learn something new and make friends". I took every fall to heart and my ego would crumble. Every compliment nearly over-inflated my head to epic proportions. I cared a LOT.
The important thing was that finally I stepped in and got involved. I learned to ride really well so that I could adopt a mustang. The mustang (Bella) should have been greenbroke and wasn't, so that began my odyssey to become a trainer. I wanted to be the very best trainer who never harmed a horse and only used the best methods. I was never satisfied that I'd found that method. But what was that really? It was fear that I wasn't good enough.
I found myself stalking trainers on Youtube who posted endless videos of mediocre riding and training. I envied their initiative to actually put something like that out to the public even though it was awful. I mentally tore them apart and picked away at them. My husband grew tired of watching these videos and hearing me complain. "Why don't you put out a video, then?" And I'd think to myself, "Because I'm not good enough yet".
What is this ugly thing in me? It's jealousy which is really fear. I'm afraid of not being good enough and yet I can clearly see that others have the courage to just put themselves out there no matter how good they are. In many other areas of my life I have plenty of confidence. I have been a bank teller and checker for many years as a sideline to horse training. I'm really good at it - one of the fastest and most accurate money handlers usually. But I have no personal investment in it. I haven't always wanted to be a bank teller (who does?) and so if someone else is just as good I don't care that much. But if you compared my riding or the way I handled a horse to another trainer, it's painful. I feel jealous, inadequate. If I don't ride enough or my horses get neglected because of vacation the guilt fills me up so that by the end of the vacation I can't wait to get home.
I gave up training and giving riding lessons, which I love, because it stressed me out. The pressure I put on myself to achieve something (what, exactly?) given a lack of funds and a late start mean that I just don't have the foundation necessary to make it. I'm also shy and reserved - not the "go on the road giving seminars" type of person. I finally gave myself a break after realizing that many trainers who have "made it big" had a few things on their side. They might have grown up with horses. Maybe they had lots of money to fund a horse operation and to be able to focus just on that. Maybe they had excellent mentors or lived in a horse-rich environment and/or wealthy sponsors. I had none of those advantages. When you are up against folks like that, it's very difficult to feel like somebody. I felt lucky to get to take lessons from someone with a name. Or just someone who had competed and won at a high level. One of the people I worked with after college (I got my degree in Equine Science) WAS very outgoing and unafraid, but without money she didn't get far either.
My husband has supported me along the way and has always reminded me that I have a lot more skill than I give myself credit for. Working with horses is an endless learning experience and the industry is filled with all kinds of methods and differing advice. Finding your way through it is hard enough. Feeling accomplished takes so much practice. He supports me though, even after I gave him a lesson and Angel bucked him off! (which was all my fault)
After giving up the professional portion of horses, I realized that I can still work with my own horses and train and ride all I want. I don't have to worry about where to get health insurance as a free-lance trainer. I don't have a client looking over my shoulder and criticizing me for everything I do, or telling me that I'm fired because they are now following "(insert name of new training star here)" and since I don't, I'm out.
The amount of self confidence and even braggadocio it takes to be that trainer cuts into the heart of what I wanted to accomplish, which was to be close to my horses, to have experiences and to ride. To have a relationship. With all the excess crap cut away I see now that I've always had that! I've ridden many horses and done well with nearly all of them. That's what matters to me. I wish I had more friends to talk to, to compare notes with and discuss various techniques and why modern dressage is going downhill.... But in lieu of that I have a shelf full of books and a pen full of horses.
I don't know about anyone else out there, but I think it's time to talk a walk on the ugly side of horsemanship. No, not abuse of horses - abuse of the self. I'm a very deep person, an introvert. I tend to have a few close friends and they are people I trust completely. My horses have a lot of meaning for me. It was something that the first time I saw one I had to get closer. I wanted to ride, to groom, to feed and to hang out. In my family I was the only one who really loved horses. My brother Mark likes them, but it's not the abiding love. That's ok, though. The point is, he is my half brother and I grew up with my Mom and step-Father in Hawaii who knew little about horses. Growing up there they seemed so far away, unattainable. I never asked to take riding lessons or anything because I assumed it was too expensive.
You see? The guilt was already starting. "Too expensive" I thought. Then I wouldn't find out that I was not a real horseman. That was also part of the fear. It's the original fear, in fact. Everything else stems from that, that you aren't good enough. Once I finally took riding lessons at age 24 I poured my heart and soul into it while others were out to have a good time or "learn something new and make friends". I took every fall to heart and my ego would crumble. Every compliment nearly over-inflated my head to epic proportions. I cared a LOT.
The important thing was that finally I stepped in and got involved. I learned to ride really well so that I could adopt a mustang. The mustang (Bella) should have been greenbroke and wasn't, so that began my odyssey to become a trainer. I wanted to be the very best trainer who never harmed a horse and only used the best methods. I was never satisfied that I'd found that method. But what was that really? It was fear that I wasn't good enough.
I found myself stalking trainers on Youtube who posted endless videos of mediocre riding and training. I envied their initiative to actually put something like that out to the public even though it was awful. I mentally tore them apart and picked away at them. My husband grew tired of watching these videos and hearing me complain. "Why don't you put out a video, then?" And I'd think to myself, "Because I'm not good enough yet".
What is this ugly thing in me? It's jealousy which is really fear. I'm afraid of not being good enough and yet I can clearly see that others have the courage to just put themselves out there no matter how good they are. In many other areas of my life I have plenty of confidence. I have been a bank teller and checker for many years as a sideline to horse training. I'm really good at it - one of the fastest and most accurate money handlers usually. But I have no personal investment in it. I haven't always wanted to be a bank teller (who does?) and so if someone else is just as good I don't care that much. But if you compared my riding or the way I handled a horse to another trainer, it's painful. I feel jealous, inadequate. If I don't ride enough or my horses get neglected because of vacation the guilt fills me up so that by the end of the vacation I can't wait to get home.
I gave up training and giving riding lessons, which I love, because it stressed me out. The pressure I put on myself to achieve something (what, exactly?) given a lack of funds and a late start mean that I just don't have the foundation necessary to make it. I'm also shy and reserved - not the "go on the road giving seminars" type of person. I finally gave myself a break after realizing that many trainers who have "made it big" had a few things on their side. They might have grown up with horses. Maybe they had lots of money to fund a horse operation and to be able to focus just on that. Maybe they had excellent mentors or lived in a horse-rich environment and/or wealthy sponsors. I had none of those advantages. When you are up against folks like that, it's very difficult to feel like somebody. I felt lucky to get to take lessons from someone with a name. Or just someone who had competed and won at a high level. One of the people I worked with after college (I got my degree in Equine Science) WAS very outgoing and unafraid, but without money she didn't get far either.
My husband has supported me along the way and has always reminded me that I have a lot more skill than I give myself credit for. Working with horses is an endless learning experience and the industry is filled with all kinds of methods and differing advice. Finding your way through it is hard enough. Feeling accomplished takes so much practice. He supports me though, even after I gave him a lesson and Angel bucked him off! (which was all my fault)
After giving up the professional portion of horses, I realized that I can still work with my own horses and train and ride all I want. I don't have to worry about where to get health insurance as a free-lance trainer. I don't have a client looking over my shoulder and criticizing me for everything I do, or telling me that I'm fired because they are now following "(insert name of new training star here)" and since I don't, I'm out.
The amount of self confidence and even braggadocio it takes to be that trainer cuts into the heart of what I wanted to accomplish, which was to be close to my horses, to have experiences and to ride. To have a relationship. With all the excess crap cut away I see now that I've always had that! I've ridden many horses and done well with nearly all of them. That's what matters to me. I wish I had more friends to talk to, to compare notes with and discuss various techniques and why modern dressage is going downhill.... But in lieu of that I have a shelf full of books and a pen full of horses.
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