A reflection on identity, horsemanship, and the kind of leadership our horses truly respond to.
There’s a part of this story that began years ago, when I first brought my mustangs home. And while time has passed and the details of our journey have evolved, the heart of the lesson still speaks loudly to me today. In fact, I’m still learning from it. Because leadership, real leadership, the kind that flows from truth, not performance, isn’t a technique we master and move on from. It’s something we return to, over and over again, especially when we find ourselves out of sync with our horse… or with ourselves.
When Leadership Starts to Feel Heavy
There was a season, not long after the mustangs arrived, when everything I thought I knew about horsemanship started to feel… shaky. I remember questioning myself constantly. Wondering if I was too soft. Too unclear. I kept thinking maybe I wasn’t being “enough” of a leader. And because I had experience training horses, other people’s horses, I even assumed I could just return to what I’d done before.
But that didn’t work. Not with these horses. Not with where I was in my life or my faith. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to train. It’s that I wasn’t leading from a place that felt true to me anymore. Looking back, I can see that the tension with my horses was reflecting something deeper happening in me. I was trying to follow the “right” steps, do what I was taught, check the boxes of good horsemanship. But I wasn’t bringing myself to the relationship, at least not fully. I was guarded. Unsure. Caught in my head.
And my horses? They felt it. Even when they complied with what I asked… the connection was missing.
When Identity Gets Cloudy
What struck me most during that season, and what I still revisit, is how different this experience was from the way I relate to God. My relationship with Him feels close. Comfortable. Honest. I don’t show up to prayer, performing. I show up as I am. And because of that, it flows.
That contrast made me realize: In my horsemanship, I’d been trying to do the right thing… Instead of being who I truly am.
And that right there, that disconnection from identity, is what so often disrupts our leadership, not just with horses, but in life.
As I wrestled with this, I found myself drawn deeper into the Gospels. Not just for spiritual nourishment, but for clarity around leadership.
Because Jesus, to me, is the clearest picture of what true leadership looks like. He didn’t dominate or force. He didn’t perform or posture. He led from peace. From presence. From identity. And maybe most powerfully, He knew exactly who He was.
That kind of groundedness changes how you move through the world. It changes how you lead a horse, too.
Identity First. Then Direction.
When I feel disconnected from a horse, or even from my own rhythm, it almost always ties back to this:
I’ve lost touch with who I am in the moment. I’ve let old stories, outside expectations, or performance creep in. And instead of leading from the inside out, I start leading from pressure.
But leadership that’s rooted in fear never creates the trust we long for.
What does? Presence. Clarity. Identity.
What does it look like when you take this leadership and presence to the barn?
The next time you step into the paddock with your horse, take a moment and slow down. Before you halter your horse or ask for anything, check in:
- Who am I being right now?
- Am I leading from peace, or from something to prove?
- Can I bring my full self into this space?
Then move with intention. Let your posture, your breath, and your energy reflect the truth of who you are; not just a rider or trainer, but a woman grounded in love and led by faith. Because your horse doesn’t need your perfection. They need your presence.
I still circle back to this truth often. Even now, after years with my mustangs. Whenever I feel that familiar disconnect creeping in, I know it’s an invitation, not to work harder, but to return to myself. To let go of the noise and come back to the quiet confidence that I am loved, equipped, and led by a God who knows me deeply.
If you’re in a season of doubt or disconnection, whether in your horsemanship, your faith, or your life, let that be your reminder, too.
You don’t have to earn your place as a leader. You were created for it.
A Grounded Reflection
Spend time today simply being with your horse. No agenda. No proving.
Ask yourself:
- What kind of energy am I bringing into this moment?
- Am I aligned with who I know I am, or am I acting out of fear or confusion?
- What would it look like to lead from my identity, not my insecurity?
And as you reflect, consider spending time in Ephesians 1 and 2. Let those words speak over your heart. Let them remind you of who you are and Whose you are.
Prayer:
God, thank You for showing me that leadership doesn’t start with force or performance, it starts with being rooted in who You say I am. Help me show up for my horses and my life with honesty, peace, and presence. Let my leadership reflect Your heart: steady, kind, and anchored in truth. In Jesus’ name, Amen.