A Change of Heart

A Change of Heart

By Colleen Marie

Sweat ran down my arm like a stream in the middle of a desert. I tossed the last of the manure into the wheelbarrow before dumping it on the pile outside the barn door, the pungent scent burning my nostrils. The calluses on my palms throbbed as I re-tied my ponytail.

It was another summer morning on the farm, but this one was to be special. I was taking the lead in my first equine-assisted therapy session. For five years I trained for this, earning hundreds of hours towards my Equine Specialist in Mental Health and Learning (ESMHL) certification from the Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship International (PATH). All unpaid hours, it was truly a work of the heart, one that some people could not understand.

“Waste of time,” one said to me. “You don’t get paid? Then why do it?” another would ask. Disbelief swam in their eyes bringing doubts into my heart. There were the days I would be so sore and exhausted that I would wonder if maybe they were right and if it wasn’t all a waste of time after all.

Questions flooded my mind that fateful morning. I promised myself that if today wasn’t all I hoped and dreamed it would be, then it would be my last day. A lot was riding on this morning.

“Can you get Splash ready?” Mia asked when I entered the stable. As my mentor for years, her petite statue always appeared at odds with the strength of her work. Her long blonde braid fell over her shoulder as she hoisted the water bucket up to a hook on the stall. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Equine psychotherapy refers to activities with horses that are conducted while being supervised by a mental health professional and an equine specialist. The sessions are designed to treat anxiety, ADHD, eating disorders, addiction, depression, and other mental health conditions while building confidence, self-awareness, and empathy (Psychology Today 2022). Being newly certified, I wanted to show her that I would be a good fit for this program. And I knew she was evaluating me that day.

“Bring Splash into the arena when you’re ready.” Mia shifted through session notes. “Ok, sounds good.” My voice trembled slightly on that last word.
Good. How many times had I thought about goodness recently. What I was trying to do was bring more good into the world. People always looked confused when I told them what I was doing, the idea being foreign. But, it shouldn't be foreign because horses have been working alongside humans for centuries.

It was my goal facilitate that connection in the session that day. Splash's ears alerted to the sound of a car door slamming. Following his gaze, I watched as a slender, sixteen-year-old girl stomped down the hill, her arms crossed and a scowl on her narrow face. Her mother followed at a distance behind after her.

“This is stupid,” the girl yelled, kicking the arena gate. Her long, black hair blocking half her pale face.

Splash immediately trotted to the other side of the arena; tail held high. The girl narrowed her eyes at him and lifted her black military boot ready to strike again.

“Erica, stop it right now.”

At her mother’s words, a deep flush covered the girl's bony cheekbones. The silver stud in her nose shifting with each exhale.

“Go away." She spat out each word like there was a bad taste in her mouth—the words painfully deliberate.

Her mother's expression took on a look of learned helplessness and my heart clenched for their broken relationship.

“Good morning,” Mia said with a bright smile, her eyes quickly assessing the situation. “So glad you were able to make it today, Erica.”

Erica shrugged. “She made me.”

Her mother silently counted to ten, each number forming on her moving lips. Mia and I exchanged a glance. My first day just reached a new level of difficulty, and I sent up a quick prayer for the strength and wisdom I needed to help this family.

While I worked with teenagers in the past and was a part of sessions where the participant was difficult and even violent at times, there was something chilling about the intense internal anger that radiated from Erica’s whole body. We would be lucky to encourage Splash to take even one step in her direction, let alone establish any connection.

The key to a good equine-assisted session is having a partnership between the participant and the horse. The hardest start for any partnership is fear in the horse.

I studied Splash in the far corner lightly dragging his front hoof in the dirt, creating a halo of dust around his legs. His ears perked and rotated towards us. Not a good way to begin the session. Splash was displaying typical signs of anxiety and stress. Dread climbed its way into my throat, making it hard to breath. My first session was quickly becoming one of multiple red flags.

As Mia attempted to engage Erica in conversation, I racked my brain for a way to draw Mia’s attention to Splash and send her a clear message that things were not looking promising. I envisioned Erica's file and phrases like bipolar disorder, hospitalized, eating disorder, suspension, and in-home arrest jumped through my mind.

“Why’s he doing that?” Erica interrupted Mia, disdain dripping from each word. And suddenly, there was my opening, and I didn't hesitate.
“Horses paw at the ground for different reasons, but often times it’s because they’re stressed.”
She huffed and shook her head. “Horses get stressed out?”
“Absolutely. Horses also mirror our emotions. They are amazing at reading us, and they reflect those emotions back to us.”
Erica narrowed her eyes at Splash. “What’s stressing him out now?”
I paused, thinking of the best way to answer. I wanted to be truthful without making her feel like she did something wrong. So, I turned the question around instead. “Why do you think he might be stressed out?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Well, we’re the only people here, so it must be us.”
I gave her a moment to think about what she said, hoping something may click. “Probably her.” Erica nodded towards her mother. "She stresses everyone out.”
It wasn't what I was hoping for, but luckily her mother didn’t respond to the barb. “So, what? Do I have to brush him or something? Isn't that why I'm here?”

“Grooming the horse is one of the steps in the program, but we’re not quite there yet,” Mia says. “I’m sure we'll get there soon, though.”

Erica pushed away from the gate and walked around the outside of the arena towards Splash. There were times over the years where a horse was in danger from a participant and had to be removed from a session. It was the last thing I wanted to do on my first day, but I knew I had to make that decision if needed.

Mia and I caught up to Erica and walked on each side of her. We stopped her about fifteen feet from Splash.

Only the sound of the birds calling overhead could be heard as Erica and Splash eyed each other. Splash’s muscles tensed and his front legs spread slightly. I though he was about to bolt, but then something changed. One of his ears curved towards Erica, and he huffed out one loud snort.

Erica laughed. “You’re as crazy as me.”

The smile transformed her face, and the glow of youth teased her sharp features. She took a couple steps toward him and leaned on the fence.

Mia went to follow, but I laid a hand on her arm. “Give ‘em a chance,” I whispered.

And as if on cue, Splash’s neck muscles relaxed. He walked to the fence, head bobbing, and stopped just out of Erica's reach. Incredible progress but Splash left the next move up to Erica.

She understood and extended a hand. Splash reached to meet it, nuzzling her palm. Erica laughed—a full, belly laugh. “That tickles.”

Erica's mom covered her mouth with her hand as silent tears slid down her cheeks, and I wondered when the last time was she heard her daughter laugh. Mia sent me a warm smile, pride in her eyes. And I knew that if I still wanted it, I had the position on her team.

Splash took the last couple of steps to the fence. He threw me a playful look, pure kindness and compassion in his amber eyes, melting away any of my remaining concerns. He understood—she needed him.

And at that moment I knew that I needed him, too. It wasn’t a passing lark or a hobby taking me away from my responsibilities. It was my calling. And from that day on, I never questioned my time at the farm again.

References

“Therapeutic Horsemanship: Professional Certifications: Path Intl.” PATH International, 8 June 2022, pathintl.org/.