Like many young girls, I rode horses in my youth. But by the time I was sixteen, I stopped. I couldn’t stand how they were treated – obedience was always put before relationship.
Years later, in my mid-thirties, I rediscovered my love for horses. This time, I wanted something different: not control, but connection.
Shortly after, when I moved to Canada, I bought my first horse: a mustang mare – I named her Cinder. I found her at an auction, only five months old. She was originally from the wild in Warm Springs, Oregon, and separated from her mother far too early. She arrived small, scared, and unsure – but also full of fire.
Cinder’s personality type is what I now know as Fire type: when in balance she’s curious, playful, open, and fun to be around. But at that time, the same fire traits made her reactive, insecure, and unaware of boundaries. She often ignored my personal space – sometimes even bumping into me. Not because she was mean, but because Fire horses are energetic, quick, and not always aware of their bodies.
For me, it was terrifying. I didn’t know how to keep her out of my space without using the harsh signals I had been taught – and those felt wrong with a foal.
So I often avoided the issue:
- I asked her too softly to step back, even when I was nervous.
- Sometimes I even did nothing when she came much too close.
- And I told myself I was being “authentic” – that I just wasn’t the kind of person who could be dominant or controlling.
On the surface, it looked like we had a beautiful relationship. She was happy to see me, curious, and willing to engage. But underneath, two problems never went away:
- She didn’t respect my personal space.
- She didn’t trust me to lead her in unfamiliar or scary situations.
Much later, I understood why: Cinder didn’t see me as someone who could keep her safe.
The Search for the “Right” Method
Over the years, I tried everything I could find.
- Natural Horsemanship
- Positive Reinforcement
- Trust Technique
- Ribbleton
- Horsefulness
Some of it helped, and I use it on occasion today, like R+. Sometimes I only had short-term successes, or no success at all. But the same two problems always came back:
- Cinder still crowded my space.
- And she still didn’t trust me when things felt unsafe.
Looking back now, it’s obvious why. I was trying to solve the problem in her—through training techniques—when the real shift had to happen in me.
At the time, though, I couldn’t see it. I thought:
👉 If I just find the perfect training method, everything will change.
But it didn’t.
The Real Issue Was Me
What I finally discovered was uncomfortable: the reason I couldn’t set clear boundaries with Cinder had nothing to do with horses.
It had to do with me.
I had bought her as a foal – at the exact moment when my daughter was growing older and needing me less. Without realizing it, I began treating Cinder like a substitute child.
So when she pushed into my space, I didn’t correct her. Why?
Because deep down I was afraid:
- If I said “no,” she wouldn’t love me anymore.
- If I set boundaries, I might lose her closeness.
- And if she didn’t need me, who would?
What I thought was “authentic love” was really need.
And what Cinder understood from that was:
👉 “She’s anxious and insecure. She can’t keep me safe. So I’d better stay alert and take care of myself.”
No wonder she never relaxed into my leadership.
The Turning Point
Everything began to shift when I stopped searching for “the next method” and started looking at myself.
I realized:
👉 Cinder didn’t need a trainer.
👉 She needed a partner and guide who could give her clarity and safety.
👉 And for that, I had to stop treating her like a child and start meeting her as a horse.
And the real change came when I began studying wild horse behavior.
- I learned how herds build trust without dominance.
- How they set boundaries with clarity, not fear.
- How leadership is about protection and good decisions – not about control.
Suddenly everything made sense. My horse’s “problems” weren’t training issues. They were reflections of the role I was unconsciously playing.
What Changed
Once I began to set boundaries without fear of “losing her love,” something powerful happened:
- Cinder respected my space without pressure.
- She trusted me to guide her through stressful situations.
- And our relationship became calmer, deeper, and more equal.
I no longer saw her as a substitute for anything missing in my life.
I saw her for who she was: a horse, a friend, and a partner.
And with that, she finally relaxed – because she knew she could trust me to keep us safe.
But the real transformation went even deeper. Everything changed when I began studying wild horse behavior – first through an intensive three-year training and certification program with Marc Lubetzki, who lives among wild herds for several months each year, and later through my own firsthand observations.
I saw how wild horses build trust, set boundaries, and lead through clear signals and deep trust – not control. And it clicked: this was exactly what my own horses had been trying to show me all along.
Suddenly, I understood why so many methods I’d tried before had failed: they ignored the innate relational language horses already use with each other. Once I began to see and apply this language, everything shifted – not just in my partnership with Cinder, but in how I understood leadership itself.
From there, I began weaving two worlds together:
- The natural rhythms of wild horses.
- Principles from evolutionary psychology, attachment theory, and conflict resolution.
The result was a framework where equine and human social intelligence meet – a shared language of emotional clarity and collaborative leadership.
From Struggle to Being Herd
This journey is why I created Being Herd: not another training method, but a way of living with horses that grows from natural signals, emotional clarity, and mutual trust.
If this story resonates with you, I’d love to share more:
📥 [Download my free guide Into the Herd: How to Be Invited Into Your Horse’s Herd – Naturally]
Because what I learned with Cinder is something every horse owner deserves to know:
✨ You don’t have to dominate to be trusted.
✨ You don’t have to control to be safe.
✨ Real partnership begins when we step into the kind of leadership horses already understand.
💡 If you’d like to explore this way of being with horses more deeply, you’ll find everything inside Being Herd – my ongoing library of videos, guides, and deep dives inspired by wild herds and the quiet leadership they live every day.
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