Equestrian Advice: This is part of our Letter to My Rookie Self series, an open letter equestrian reflection project. Learn more and/or submit your own letter here.
Dear Rookie Self,
You’re standing there in brand-new jodhpurs, clutching a shiny grooming brush you don’t yet know how to use, staring at a horse who’s already decided he’s the one in charge. Don’t panic — we’ve all been there.
You’ll make mistakes. You’ll overfeed, under-tighten, overthink, and occasionally under-duck a flying hoof.
But here’s the thing — every wrong turn on this journey will lead to lessons you’ll one day be grateful for. So before you beat yourself up about not being “experienced enough,” take a deep breath and read this letter from your future, slightly muddier, much wiser self.
You Don’t Need All the Gear (Even If It’s Shiny)
Right now, you think success smells like new leather. You’re convinced that the matchy-matchy saddle pad, boots, and bridle set will make you look like Charlotte Dujardin in the ring. Spoiler alert: it won’t.
Your horse doesn’t care what colour your numnah is. He doesn’t even notice your £80 breeches. What he does notice is your energy — your tension, your joy, your patience.
So instead of splashing cash on fancy kit, invest in lessons, time, and trust. Spend those hours learning how to read his body language, not just the latest feed labels.
Photo: Canva
Confidence and connection are the ultimate accessories — and they look good on everyone.
That “Gentle Gelding” Isn’t Plotting Against You (Much)
You’re about to meet a horse who will redefine the phrase “learning curve.” He’ll teach you how to sit deep, stay calm, and develop a sixth sense for spooking at invisible monsters.
He’s not being “naughty.” He’s being honest. Horses are prey animals, hardwired to react first and think later. When you understand that, everything changes. You’ll stop taking it personally and start learning to lead with clarity, consistency, and calmness.
The day you finally sit through his spin without panic — that’s the day you’ll realise horsemanship isn’t about domination. It’s about communication.
You’ll Fall (and Get Back Up)
Let’s be real — you’re going to fall off. Maybe once. Maybe twice. Maybe more than you’ll admit to your non-horsey friends. You’ll land in mud, sand, and sometimes even your own pride.
And each time, you’ll stand up a little stronger. Falling teaches balance, humility, and courage — things no riding instructor can truly explain until you’ve hit the deck and climbed back on.
One day, you’ll look at the scuffs on your boots and see not embarrassment, but evidence. Proof that you showed up, kept trying, and never quit.
That’s the heart of every great rider — not talent, but tenacity.
You’ll Learn More From Quiet Days Than Winning Ribbons
You’ll chase the thrill of competition — the adrenaline of clear rounds, the gleam of rosettes, the applause of the crowd. But in time, you’ll find your favourite moments happen in silence.
They’ll be early mornings when the yard is still, when your horse rests his muzzle on your shoulder, and the only sound is soft breathing and rustling hay.
Those are the moments that build trust. That’s where real horsemanship lives — in patience, in care, in the quiet connection between two very different species learning to move as one.
Photo: Canva
You’ll Discover the Power of “Less Is More”
There will come a day when you realise the best riders aren’t the loudest in the ring. They don’t yank reins or kick harder — they whisper. Their aids are soft, subtle, invisible to most.
And you’ll get there too, Rookie. It just takes time and humility. You’ll stop trying to impress people and start focusing on partnership. You’ll trade gadgets for groundwork, force for feel, and suddenly, your horse will start offering what you’ve been asking for all along — willingly. That’s when you’ll understand the magic of “less is more.”
You’ll Learn to Laugh at Yourself (Often)
There will be days when your horse refuses to load, rolls in the mud right before a show, or escapes the field like a four-legged Houdini. You’ll want to cry — but instead, you’ll laugh.
Because laughter keeps you grounded. It reminds you that riding is supposed to be fun.
Not every hack will go smoothly, not every lesson will be a breakthrough, and not every outfit will survive a stable day unscathed. But you’ll learn to find joy in the chaos.
You’ll Find “Your People”
One of the best surprises of your horse journey is the community that comes with it. The people who’ll hold your horse at shows, share spare plaiting bands, and text you at midnight after a tough ride.
You’ll find comfort in online equestrian spaces too — places where riders share stories, trade advice, and celebrate each other’s wins. Whether it’s through a local riding club, a livery yard family, or supportive platforms like Sell Your Horse, where riders across the UK connect to buy, sell, and share their stories, you’ll realise the equestrian world is full of heart.
You’re never alone in this. Every rider has been the “rookie” once.
You’ll Understand That Progress Isn’t Linear
There’ll be weeks when everything clicks — and others when you wonder if you’ve forgotten how to ride altogether. That’s normal. Horses aren’t machines, and neither are you.
Progress in the saddle (and in life) moves in loops, not lines.
Every setback is just a stepping stone in disguise. So when you have a bad ride, don’t spiral. Reflect, reset, and remember, even on the days that feel like square one, you’re still miles ahead of where you started.
Photo: Canva
You’ll Realise Horses Change You — Forever
This journey will test you. It’ll stretch your patience, your bank account, and your self-belief. But it’ll also make you stronger, braver, and more empathetic than you ever thought possible.
You’ll discover that horses have an uncanny way of holding up a mirror. They reflect who we really are — our fears, our confidence, our compassion. And in learning to understand them, you’ll end up understanding yourself.
One day, you’ll look at that same horse — the one who once terrified and thrilled you in equal measure — and feel nothing but gratitude. Gratitude for every bruise, every challenge, and every little victory that got you here.
Final Word from the Future Me
Dear Rookie, you don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to ride flawlessly or own fancy gear or win ribbons to be worthy of calling yourself a rider.
You just need heart, humility, and a willingness to keep showing up — muddy boots and all.
Keep learning, keep laughing, and never lose the spark that made you fall in love with horses in the first place. Because that’s what this whole journey is really about — not trophies, not trends, but trust.
Now go grab that grooming brush, take a deep breath, and enjoy every imperfect, beautiful, utterly unforgettable moment of it.
~ Future Self ~
P.S. Enjoy this article? Trot on over to:
- Write Your Own Letter to My Rookie Self
- Letter to My Rookie Self: Louise Richards
- How to Tell if a Horse Sales Listing is Too Good to Be True
- Braided: A Herd Dynamic (Horse Rookie Diversity Initiative)
