The first time I interacted with a horse, I was only three years old. From there, I went on to ride for eleven years, learning valuable life lessons in that time.

There are two main types of riding styles. In Western riding, there are many different branches of riding such as pleasure riding, barrel racing, calf roping, and many more. In English riding, there is dressage, jumping, hunter, and others. The Western saddle is more suitable for beginner riders, so I began riding Western. My mother signed me up for a few riding camps. I immediately wanted to begin lessons. During my first official lesson, I rode a Paint horse in a large Western saddle. I held onto the protruding saddle horn for balance during lessons. I quickly improved over the next few months. My instructor saw my progress and let me go on a trail ride and I galloped uphill.

At the age of nine, I asked my parents if I could try the more challenging style of English riding. They agreed, and I soon began. Because English riding and Western riding are very different from each other, I had great difficulty adjusting to the new riding style. The Western saddle I first learned to use was large and bulky. The horn stuck up in the front of the saddle, and is primarily used for roping cattle. Under the hard leather seat of the saddle, a rough leather piece extended the saddle backwards. After changing to an English saddle, I was struggling to get used to the softer leather seat with no horn. That saddle was smaller and lighter. Without a horn, there was nothing to hold onto when riding except for the reins. The new saddle made me feel unbalanced and I became a more cautious rider.

I rode different styles of English for years to follow, never getting past a trot. My instructor sometimes switched my saddle, which made the ride feel different. My lesson horse would often be changed and I would have to get used to the gait of the new horse. Because of the changing saddles and horses, it was difficult for me to improve in English riding. This angered me at the time because I wanted to advance to a higher level of riding, but the changes gave me new experience. I perfected walking, turning without reins, going forward without kicking the horse, and worked on my posting trot. A posting trot is a fast movement that can take up to a year to master. I slowly improved, and I wanted to learn more.

As I worked up the courage for my first canter, I quietly nudged my brown horse forward, my heart racing. He picked up a smooth trot, kicking up dirt with every step. I settled into a rhythm and waited for the cue. I heard my instructor telling me to canter from the middle of the arena. My focus was on my horse’s steady movements. A mix of fear and excitement overcame me, and I nudged my horse into a canter. My horse’s long neck rocked as he worked to canter. I held the reins above his shoulders and between his ears. I looked up, as I was supposed to, parallel with the horse’s movements. The wooden walls beside me were blurred, but the curving bend in the path in front of me was clear. I nudged my horse and clicked my tongue as a symbol to keep going. My horse kept his pace around the corner, and I could feel my instructor’s eyes on my posture. Feeling uncomfortable about being watched, I lost my focus. I began to put too much pressure into my right stirrup, accidentally sliding the saddle to the right, towards the wall. My horse, sensing something was wrong, immediately slowed to a walk, then stopped. The girth belt, which held the saddle in place, began slipping until it hung on the horse’s side. I grabbed the wall and pulled myself off quickly before I could hit the ground. I landed safely on my feet, with nothing damaged besides my confidence. The horse was standing, waiting for my next command. My instructor rushed over to me and held my horse by the bridle. I was unhurt, but afraid. My teacher told me that I rode a good canter until my saddle slipped, and gently told me what I could fix the next time I would canter.

I was afraid to canter for weeks afterwards, but eventually was able to try again. I now enjoy cantering, and hope to try on my new horse, Nadia. I will wait until my instructor tells me I am ready. If I had the choice to go back in time, I would not stop the fall from happening. That riding lesson taught me many different things about riding, patience, paying attention, and most importantly, being persistent when trying new things. This experience has taught me to get back on my feet and stand strong, because almost anything, big or small, will get better.