A couple months ago, I rode on a horse.
And I know that means nothing to you, so let me tell you a little story of something that occurred about six years ago.
It happened in 2006. I was eleven years old. Every few years my small town puts on a show called the Peace Treaty which is a two hour reenactment of Kansas history all the way from Coronado passing through Kansas up until the white men sighing a peace treaty with the Indians, hence, the name of the pageant. Thousands of people from all over the country come to watch the historical reenactment in our outdoor amphitheater. Everyone in my town pitches in to make the performance. I was in a scene called the Prairie Flower scene with dozens of other little girls. We were waiting to rehearse our scene when it happened.
A horse broke loose.
Having grown up on a farm, I had been around horses since I was in diapers so the fact that a horse had run away didn't phase me in the least.
That is...until it was charging straight at us.
Panic kicked in. Chaos erupted. It felt like a movie playing in slow motion. The dozens of girls from my scene fled in every direction. I desperately glanced around and started wildly running up a hill, clutching onto every branch or twig that I could find.
Climb the hill, Anna. Get away from the horse. Climb the hill.
Out of harm's way...for the moment...Until I glanced over my shoulder and saw the horse plowing up the hill. Heading straight at me. Clutching onto some shrubbery, I crouched as close to the ground as I possibly could.
I have no recollection of the next few minutes. The next thing I remember was the horse jumping over, feeling its warm, fuzzy stomach brush over my back. What was racing through that eleven-year-old brain of mine? I have no idea, but what I do know is that I should have been hurt or at the very least seriously injured. But I wasn't. Other than being shaken up, I was completely unharmed.
On that day, I developed a fear of horses. Every time I was around them after that episode, fear kicked in. My heart started racing. I would relive that September day and the horse would be jumping over me all over again. Some people looked at horses and saw their beauty and majesty. I looked at them and saw their power and strength. And for the next six years, that fear controlled me.
When my best friend Joanna came to visit from Alaska, she really wanted to ride horses. So I arranged for us to ride horses with Terry, a good family friend. I had ridden horses occasionally over the past six years, but always very tense and afraid. A few weeks later, Joanna and I met up with Terry on the wide open prairie with the red gyp hills and broom weed as a background. For the first part of the ride, I sat nervous and tense as the three of us ventured down canyons and through cedar trees.
Once we made it back to the open prairie, Terry taught Joanna how to gallop. And that's when I decided: I was not leaving until I had galloped. It took some time, but I finally did it-and LOVED it. I finally galloped on a horse and by doing so had conquered my fears.
Dear fears...
You. Don't. Own. Me
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