Revealing Who We Are
Emotional maturity is not the garnish on horsemanship. It is the foundation.
Horses have a way of revealing who we are long before they respond to what we ask. Every interaction exposes our mindset, our habits, and our emotional fitness. With time, I’ve come to believe that emotional maturity is not just helpful in horsemanship. It is essential. Without it, the work becomes reactive. With it, the work becomes art.
One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned is that where we place our focus determines the quality of our communication. When we concentrate on what we don’t want a horse to do—don’t spook, don’t brace, don’t leave, don’t resist—we unintentionally organize our minds around tension. We become more vigilant for errors, quicker to judge ourselves or our horses, and more likely to compare our journey to someone else’s. This pattern pulls us out of connection and into ego-driven behavior.
Ego is loud. It defends. It argues. It looks outward for problems and inward for justification. And once we are in that state, we are no longer partners. We are combatants—against ourselves, against our horses, or against anyone who trains differently than we do.
The alternative is far more productive: keep our attention anchored in what we want to build. Clear goals. Clear feel. Clear communication. When we aim our energy toward what we want, the mind naturally becomes more consistent, more spacious, and more empathetic. It becomes easier to notice subtleties. Easier to stay present. Easier to adjust in a way that supports the horse’s understanding rather than policing their mistakes.
This shift invites emotional maturity because it requires self-regulation rather than self-protection. Instead of reacting to what goes wrong, we stay connected to what we are trying to create. That mindset strengthens our leadership and protects our relationship with the horse. It also reduces the impulse to judge others.
Personally, I shy away from any horsemanship philosophy that exists mostly to criticize or demonize “the others.” When a method defines itself by comparison—we are right because they are wrong—it signals a lack of emotional maturity. That approach narrows our curiosity, dulls our empathy, and encourages combative thinking. It primes us to defend our egos rather than seek harmony.
Horses don’t need us to win arguments. They need us to listen, to learn, and to communicate with clarity and kindness. Emotional maturity gives us the steadiness to do that—especially when the conversation gets difficult. It asks us to notice our biases, take responsibility for our own energy, and stay aligned with our values even when the horse offers feedback that challenges us.
In the end, the pursuit of horsemanship is really the pursuit of self-awareness. The more emotionally mature we become, the more available we are to our horses. The more we focus on what we want, the more harmonious our communication becomes. This is not about perfection. It is about intention and willingness. It is about choosing growth over comparison, curiosity over judgment, and partnership over ego.
Emotional maturity is not the garnish on horsemanship. It is the foundation. And every horse is a patient teacher, helping us build it one conversation at a time.
