My daughter has been riding horses for years. She’s been obsessed with them since she was a little girl. She’s 13 now, and that obsession has blossomed into a true love for everything equine.

This past year she has been riding a beautiful black and white pinto named Trixie. I had only seen photos until last month, when I joined her for a riding lesson. Watching her interact with Trixie was really special to see. And then to see her riding with such ease? It was such a gift to be able to see her in her element, so full of life and confidence.

I joined her for a few more lessons, as sort of a Christmas gift to myself. I had secretly been wanting to for a long time and finally decided to just do it. I was given a horse named Millie to ride. Millie was slow, stubborn, and mildly obsessed with eating. So, basically my spirit animal.

My first two lessons with Millie were pretty tame. We mostly walked around the indoor arena while the other riders pranced around with their horses. Millie got really nervous when everyone changed direction and started trotting toward her. She was not a fan of oncoming traffic. I was told that they couldn’t leave Millie to hang with the other horses because they all made fun of her. So she spends her days hanging out with the goats instead. I have thankfully not dealt with too much teasing in my own life, but for some reason that information made me feel a connection to her, if only for the vague connection of emotional suffering and pain.

At our final lesson, I could tell right away that Millie was in a special mood. She seemed more eager this time to move around with the other horses. We were having a good ol’ time walking around the arena, trotting a little here and there. Until she caught sight of that big door out of the arena. That’s when she would ignore everything I was telling her and fight to walk straight for it. I would have to tell her to stop and just stand there until she learned she wasn’t heading that way. She was in Time Out until she learned to follow directions.

At one point during the lesson I was directing her to trot, but she had a different idea. I think she saw all the other horses loping and decided she wanted to join them. So she did! Loping (or cantering) isn’t full out galloping but when you are new at riding it might as well be. I was hanging on for dear life as I scrambled to pull on the reins and shout the key word for stop – “Woah!”. She finally stopped about 6 feet from the door; she was ready to make a run for it. I don’t know how she planned to open the door, but I guess she was just going to figure that out when she got there. Details, details. It was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

And that is why Lesson #1 is always: How to tell the horse to stop.

Overall it was a fun experience and I may try it again down the road but for now it was enough excitement to satisfy my curiosity for awhile. I’m happy to stick to running, where I get to decide where I’m going and how fast.