I continued my attempts to bond with Dakota. I stood in her stall for 30 minutes, probably 4-5 more times and she started to nudge me a little bit. I wanted this bond to happen immediately- I wasn't giving it time. I wasn't respecting her desire to come to ME, which is the entire point of this challenging activity. However, I didn't expect this activity to deepen MY trust in HER, but it did. It HAD to, because I had to trust her enough that she wouldn't try to hurt me while I stood in her space with the stall locked. I had to trust her because I wanted to become a better rider, and I couldn't do that if I was filled with fear.
After my fall, I anticipated to get back on the saddle with no fear, knowing Dakota would never do what Cinnamon did (which she wouldn't unless she was absolutely terrified of something). I could sense that their wasn't one malicious bone in her body. But how could I know that for sure? After all, she is STILL a horse. Her natural instinct is to flee- not hang around and fight the battle.
I step onto the mounting block and sit in the saddle. My heart was racing and about to beat out of my chest- a reaction I did not expect. I had told myself on the drive out to the barn, "It's Dakota, not Cinnamon. You will be fine- besides, you can't have 2 falls in one week!" I had talked myself INTO anxiety mode even though I believed it to be otherwise. I had no idea that this anxiety, this fear, would push me farther away from being able to develop a bond with Dakota. I wanted to trust her, but human nature and my limited riding experience forced me to feel otherwise. But I didn't give up. I could sense there was something special to her, something inside of her just waiting to have someone love her and trust her. Which is exactly what happened- and then she began trusting me.
It wasn't an overnight event. It took months, and it took a very special event that became a turning point in my riding- the week before my first schooling show.
No comments:
Post a Comment