I am an equestrian. I believe I can fly and I want to run free. My soul lives with the soul of my horse and my best friend walks on all fours. I am fluent in the unspoken language between animal and man and I can touch the heart of my horse with my own. I have owned two horses in my lifetime, and each one holds a piece of me within them. Jicara, my first horse, was a small, grey, gentle reincarnation of Jesus, and she built in me a sense of self-worth and of self-discovery. When I left her at her new home, I spent the ride home crying like a mother separated from her young. Sometimes I still think of her and feel a pang in my heart for the friend that I lost when she left. My new horse, though, is the best friend I have ever had the pleasure of having. Stravinsky is a high-strung, high-class, beautifully talented, goofy, and a little retarded life-changer of a horse. The bond between us began shakily, as many strong friendships do, but we have become teammates, partners. As partners, we must flow well. We must connect well. We must learn the same, and learn together. We must share the desire to compete, the drive to win, and the motivation to succeed. But most importantly, we have to trust each other. As a 5’2” and 120lb girl, I do not control my 1500lb beast. I simply ask, and pray that he complies. I give up control. I give up my life. I trust my horse. I trust my God. Many people do not understand what I do, and many more do not understand why. The lifestyle suits only so few people, and we live knowing that we are rare. The society in which we exist does not understand us, and many times does not accept us. We face ridicule; we face judgement. So many times we’ve heard, “all you do is sit there,” and “the horse does all the work,” and “you can’t even call that a sport.” Yet it doesn’t bother us enough to make us quit. There is passion pushing from deep inside that whispers in response, “one day you will show them. Keep going.” We are horse people. I am a horse girl. My pride, my joy, the beating of my heart lies inside the beating of the heart of the four-legged animal with the wind blowing through its mane as it runs free across the plains out west with his majesty eternalized throughout history. I am my horse, and he is me. To know who I am, look no further than the look of God inside the eyes of the horse.