Burnout And How It Almost Robbed Me of My Love For Horses

Grittiness and hard work is so celebrated in the horse world that oftentimes, people don’t even realize when they’re pushing themselves past their limit until it’s too late. Working long hours with little breaks and having the expectation that you’re to be at work rain or shine, healthy or sick, doesn’t really promote putting your physical and mental health first.

I didn’t realize what exactly I was getting myself into when I first started training professionally. It had been a long term dream of mine and in the beginning it felt like a dream, but then the reality of the pressures of the job started to creep in.

If I was feeling unwell physically or mentally, missing work really wasn’t an option. I was expected to be there, no one could replace my job. I often worked alone, so many clients didn’t really care if I came to work sick if it was between that and their horses getting worked. So, I pressed on.

I found myself caught between a rock and a hard place many times. The expectations of clients did not always align with what I viewed to be ethical. And, since I was still establishing myself, it was a lot easier for middle-aged clients who’d been in the industry their whole lives to pressure me into doing what they wanted despite the fact that they were paying for my expertise.

I tried to advocate for horses and voice concerns when they felt sore, showed signs of ulcers or had saddles that didn’t appear to fit, or maybe they didn’t get enough or any turnout…

But, the reality is, people don’t always listen. Often, they don’t.

They may make excuses to put it off, or they may blatantly deny that there’s an issue, claiming they’ve already looked into it or saying that their horse is just quirky and that’s how they are.

And so, I was met with the choice to either stand my ground for what I felt was right and lose clients, and thereby my income, or find some way to try to meet in the middle and offer the horse the most ethical handling I could in that situation.

I needed money and I needed to find ways to slowly encourage clients to consider my perspective, so oftentimes, I kept working. It made me bitter and resentful towards the jobs sometimes and made it difficult to want to go to work.

I hated seeing miserable horses who were stressed and begging for a change in their life. I hated working at barns where horses virtually only ever saw the inside of the barn unless they were going out to work. The horses were more reactive and dangerous to work with by far and I knew why and empathized with them, but their behaviours still endangered me, making it hard not to get stressed and frustrated, especially when I was blocked from finding a real solution due to their owner’s unwillingness.

I didn’t even realize it happening, but I feel into such a state of burnout and depression that more often than not, I was too exhausted to even want to work with my own horses. I went through the motions of feeding them and caring for them, but could seldom muster the energy to work with them. The fact that I no longer seemed to enjoy working with my own horses bothered me immensely.

Owners would often misrepresent their horses’ experience. Claiming they’d been angels for their first few rides, or that they’d only had a couple of months off when the reality was that they had definitive issues that the owner didn’t want to let me know about due to fear I wouldn’t want to work with the horse. Or, perhaps, they really were that ignorant to their own horses behaviour.

I could see horses exhibiting signs of stress that served as “tells” that they weren’t ready to move onto the stages of training that their owners believed they were ready for. I would try to express this, but would be shutdown.

I firmly believe that a lot of these older horse people leveraged the advantage they had over me with age and perceived experience and used it to pressure me to getting on their horses because they knew they could. And for a while, it worked, because I felt the need to prove myself and was worried about getting bad reviews and damaging my career.

I got on youngsters who were ready to jump out of their skin even though I would have preferred to do more days of groundwork. I would be thrown around like a ragdoll when they did react, luckily, I usually stayed on, but the act of being thrown about like that takes a toll on your body regardless.

I got on a 3 year old gelding one time, I’d done several days of ground work with him first and he seemed fine. He’d been broke before according to his owner and was “super easy and mellow.” He was stalled 20+ hours day, often the whole day. The poor thing had so much energy and nowhere to release it, it wasn’t his fault.

His owner decided she wanted me to get on him and told me this one day when I was prepping him for another ground work session. Again, she reiterated that he was fine and had only \had a small amount of time off so should pick up from where he left off.

I lunged him first, did some ground work and then we headed to the arena. She held him as I got on from the mounting block. I could feel his tension but assumed that like all of the other times, his reactions would be manageable.

I hadn’t even had time to put my feet into the stirrups yet. The horse took about one step before throwing his head down and broncing violently, his owner immediately let go of the reins and left me to my own devices.

I was rocket launched into the ground so hard I swear I left a crater. I tried to get up right away to catch my horse but as I tried to stand, the pain was so much I felt like I was going to vomit. I’d had some bad falls, but none that had felt like this. I had to take a knee and stay there, my hip and lower back aching.

The horse continued to bronc around the arena like a rodeo horse until he some how managed to get the saddle off over his head and neck, with the girth still attached on either side. Only after the saddle was off did he stop bucking.

His owner didn’t give me much of a second glance, she was clearly more worried about the horse despite that he’d not done anything to sustain injury and I was clearly hurt. She didn’t ask if I was okay, just said he’d never done that before.

This was an eye opening experience that led me to realize that some clients really did not care about my safety at all. I thought I’d broken my back that day and still struggle with on and off pain years later. All over believing the owner’s assessment of their horse.

As I learned more and tried to develop my education in the equine science realm, it became increasingly unbearable to exist in situations like this where the horses were so chronically stressed and their owners had no real desire to address it properly because they believed it to be normal behaviour.

I was starting to hate the very job I’d wanted for my whole life. I was cranky about going to work, chronically exhausted and body sore. Getting through the day took everything I had. I was depressed, lonely and losing my love for the sport but I needed money, so I kept on.

If I injured myself, I often had to work through the injury because I couldn't afford to lose money. I broke my hand one year, took a week off and then proceeded to gallop several horses a day in a wrist brace, hoping I wouldn’t displace the fracture and require surgery.

I worked through broken fingers, through soft tissue damage. Even head injuries, I would take a small break to try to at least get some semblance of rest, but then would have to press on because I felt I had no other choice.

My work was coming at the expense of my body and mind.

Some clients helped bring the life back into me by actually listening to my suggestions and being serious about addressing their horses issues. This gave me faith and led me to having more confidence to fire the clients who wouldn’t do this, or let them fire me when I stood my ground and refused to do what they asked.

But, it still hurt. It still hurt to have clients measure my skill off of how quickly I could make their horse do something, not how well the horse did it, how relaxed the horse was or how it set up a foundation for the future.

It also meant that I had to leave behind a lot of horses who I’d bonded with and really wanted to help, and leave them knowing their owner was going to be motivated to pick a trainer who was more willing to push them through their issues instead of addressing the cause.

It was like losing a friend repeatedly. Sometimes, I would see horses for lease or sale later and find out they were still struggling with issues. Other times, I would see posts of them performing “well” accordingly to their owners but see their faces riddled with stress and could see that the horse certainly didn’t feel well.

But, there was nothing I could do about it. So, I had to tuck away that sadness and desire to help the horse and move on, trying to forget about them.

I was becoming increasingly more cynical. For every good client I would get, I’d meet several who would eagerly hire me saying that they were interested in my unique skillset to solve their behavioural issues, only to find out that they only really meant this if I could do it in their quick paced time line.

Such timelines almost always existed with horses who were sore or outright lame, rehabbing injuries, very out of shape and in some cases, obese, or who had significant mental and emotional health issues.

Their owners would start out enthusiastic and excited about the progress as I built a foundation, but as they saw improvement, they started wanting it faster and faster, not understanding that in order to build fitness and relaxation, I had to do it in little blocks at a time. I couldn’t just slam on the gas and go as fast as possible as soon as they started to do well, or this would cause regression.

They didn’t understand this, though, and they were constantly looking for speed even if initially they’d assured me they just wanted their horses to be happy, to enjoy work and to learn how to do things correctly.

The horse world is always in a rush. Finding people who aren’t going to rush you and pressure you to get to a certain finish line regardless of how it’s achieved is difficult. The clients who are like this are special gems, worth their weight in gold, and I can always make the most difference in their horses because of how adaptable they are.

Year after year, I grew more tired and jaded. I started saying no to new clients more. I lessened my client load because I simply couldn’t take it anymore. Riding 10+ horses a day almost every day, rain or shine, cold or heat, was taking its toll on my physical and mental health.

I didn’t even have the energy to really have a life outside of work. I isolated myself from friends, making myself lonelier and lonelier, because I had to choose work or leisure. I didn’t have the energy for both, so obviously work came first because I needed money to live.

As I developed my business, I got more choosy about clients. It definitely became easier once I had more clients and more of an income outside of horse training, as I developed my brand and started to sell products as well. This was freeing, because I didn’t have to be so worried about money that I had to continue abusing myself in order to make income.

I curated my clientele more and more, being choosy about who I would stay with. I started to stand my ground and stay firm in decisions that I thought were best for the horses. I did this even though my voice shook and even though clients would make veiled threats about finding someone else to do it, or make a dig about me moving too slow or being over sensitive about their horses needs.

But, I stayed firm on my decisions because I figured that doing so would help lead me to clients that wouldn’t fight me when I told them their horse needed their saddle refit or that they had a slight lameness that should be looked at by the vet.

I lost clients I enjoyed working with initially and most of all, lost horses I adored. However, I was able to retain my integrity and that was a pretty good feeling, being able to stick to my values without fretting about going broke.

This past winter has been a healing journey for me. I’ve taken as much time off of regular riding than I ever have. It’s been so good for helping to heal chronic injuries and soreness. It’s been good for my mental health and has helped me to enjoy working with my own horses again.

It’s brought me a new perspective on my job and how I want to show up in the horse world. I was so burnt out because I wasn’t being authentic to myself and letting other people make decisions for me took a mental and physical toll I didn’t realize at the time. In some cases, I think I was in a state of learned helplessness because I really did feel like I had no other choice.

Giving myself my power back by making my own choices is what healed me.

Recognizing the fact that the horse world doesn’t model healthy work behaviours was healing as well.

Riding through injuries isn’t cool.

Ignoring your body when it’s telling you to slow down or take a break isn’t cool.

Making people feel like they’re less of a rider when they put themselves, their safety and wellness first isn’t cool.

A dedicated rider is one who recognizes that their health and wellbeing is as important as that of the horses they work with.

I’m glad that I’ve taken a hiatus from taking on regular clients. It has brought me happiness and peace that I’ve been missing for a while and has allowed me to reevaluate how I want to do things in the future.

To make the most difference in the horse world, I think my next move is going to be sticking to mostly doing clinics because it curates the type of clients who are expecting to have me work with them and their horses on that particular day, and then take what they learn to apply themselves in the future. There is no expectation of a certain timeline. The goal is merely improvement, not a specific destination.

And I like that.

I like working with people who respect my craft and are coming to me for my perspective, not to try to make me fit into a mould they’ve made for me with their expectations.

Sometimes loss is a blessing. Sometimes removing people from your life that don’t see eye to eye with you is what you need to do for your personal health.

Training horses is great but I’m no longer willing to burn myself out and let it suck the life out of me in the way I did for so many years.

I’m no longer going to endanger my body by rushing scared horses that the owners themselves wouldn’t get on. I’m not their crash test dummy and a client who doesn’t value my safety is not someone who deserves my services.

Burnout is common in the horse world, but it shouldn’t be viewed as normal.

We should all normalize taking better care of ourselves and not glorifying making work our entire lives.