Who Gets to Call Themselves an Equestrian?

In our community, the title of an equestrian or horse person often conjures images of those who grew up with the rustling of hay in the barn or riders adorned with ribbons and trophies. But it begs the question: who really gets to call themselves an equestrian?

This question has been tugging at my thoughts for some time. For years, I found my answer in the children I have the privilege of working with. These children, many navigating the complexities of special needs, have unfolded before my eyes the very heart of horsemanship. They remind me that equestrianism isn’t about perfect riding form or competition—it’s about connection. A profound, wordless conversation between horse and human, spoken in gestures, emotions, and presence.

Through their interactions, I see the qualities that embody the truest definition of equestrian:

• Kindness: approaching horses with gentleness and care.

• Courage: not the absence of fear, but the bravery to step forward despite it.

• Humility: recognizing that in the presence of horses, we are all learners.

• Resilience: showing up again and again, no matter the hurdles.

For me, this question has taken on new meaning as I’ve grown and evolved in my own relationship with horses. I no longer ride—and I used to wonder, does that mean I’m not an equestrian anymore? But the truth is, the connection I share on the ground fills me with more gratitude and peace than I ever felt in the saddle. Grooming, walking, breathing side by side—these are no less sacred. This is still equestrianism.

So perhaps it’s time we expand our vision of what it means to be a horse person. You can be someone who’s been around horses your entire life. You can discover them later in life, taking your first steps into the barn as an adult. You can ride every weekend or never swing a leg over at all. If you find joy in simply being with horses, you are part of this community.

The children I work with, the adults who bravely begin their journeys later in life, and those of us who choose to stay on the ground—all of us are equestrians. Because equestrianism isn’t measured in ribbons or years of riding; it’s measured in the depth of connection, the lessons learned, and the love we share with these magnificent creatures.

In redefining what it means to be an equestrian, we open our arms wider. We honor the diversity in our community and celebrate not just the skill or tradition, but the journey, the bond, and the transformative power of horses in all our lives.

Peace & Love,
Melissa