When Your Heroes Aren't Your Heroes Anymore

2025 has been a transformative year for me. The line 'if you knew me then, you don't know me now' sums it up perfectly.

I completely reinvented myself—but in a way that feels more like rediscovering who I was always meant to be. That inner voice had been begging to break free for years, but my ambition for career and life goals kept me on the traditional path because that's all I knew.

Then, everything fell apart...I was left in pieces and finally had the chance to rebuild. But this time I was going to let my authentic self take the lead. I had no clue where to start, so I just followed my interests...anything that lit up my brain. I couldn't believe how easy it was—like floating down a river when I had been trying to walk upstream for years!

I never realized how much I'd been holding onto old definitions of who I was, and who I was supposed to follow or admire. It was a little disorienting to realize that this new authentic river ride was fun, but...where was I going?

I spent 20 years working in the sport horse industry (dressage, jumpers, driving), where traditional methods are woven into the culture like the threads of a wool jacket; no longer practical, yet still the norm. There's a constant drum of platforms honoring this world of traditions; telling you who to follow, which achievements matter, what goals to set. I took that worn path in my career and even became that voice for many people. For nearly six years, I oversaw the Driving discipline at US Equestrian, collaborating with athletes aiming for FEI World Championships. I witnessed all the inner workings, observing brilliance and dedication within the community—born from investing every part of themselves into a sport. Yet, I also encountered aspects that were...less inspiring.

Even with the generosity of knowing nobody is perfect—of knowing humans will always be flawed and complicated—I couldn't shake my disappointment in some of the darkness that existed at the top. Time and again I witnessed earnest new competitors pour their hearts into developing a horse and obtaining goals, only to be knocked down unexpectedly, burned out and give up. I fought for them every time. But none of it was sustainable. Some would remain in the ranks, content to have had the experience. Others would disappear from competition completely.

It's surprisingly disheartening to make it to the top and realize your heroes aren't who you expected. Not knowing who your heroes are anymore is like losing your compass. You can still walk, but you're not sure if you're drifting toward purpose or just pacing in circles.

That's where I found myself at the start of this year. I was still working with my horses, but felt a little lost. And somewhere in that deep-dive, I realized I needed to go on a quest for new heroes.

When I attended the 2025 Road to the Horse world famous colt starting competition, I was not expecting to find one of my new heroes there! Tik Maynard's perfectly calculated timing and communication with his horse was mesmerizing. His approach left the horse wanting more, which is not a simple task in that overwhelming environment. He spoke about developing and protecting the young colt's curiosity—in fact, I was pleased to hear several of the competitors mention curiosity as a key component to their training.

Watching Tik win the competition while honoring the horse's best interest meant everything to me. I took home a (signed!) copy of his book and devoured it in a couple days. It felt like I was reading my own thoughts—questioning tradition, questioning how to approach training. His book(s) eloquently spelled out so many of the internal battles I had been experiencing. It was incredibly validating to hear a trainer asking the right questions, and finding his way forward, while keeping the horses' wellbeing at the center of it all.

He showed me that it was possible to stay relevant in this industry while keeping your integrity intact with the horses. Until then, I had started to wonder because of the increasing number of top trainers being publicly exposed for nasty methods.

Between my new job and obtaining a mustang pony, my interests sparked towards studying horse behavior on a new level. I signed up for online classes, I read book after book, found webinars and organizations that aligned. Almost on a whim, I signed up for multiple conferences and workshops—then hit the road! It felt crazy to invest this much in pursing what felt like an intellectual hobby, but it also felt like I was finally letting the current take me where I needed to be. I connected with so many incredible researchers, professors, experts, and trainers who aligned with my values and were taking action to make the industry better...for the horse.

I had found my people. Finally! Brick by brick, contact by contact, I was rebuilding my community.

Suddenly the old, traditional way of working with horses didn't make sense anymore. I had been learning all of those ways for 20 years, but now I was seeing it with fresh eyes and finally understood why certain methods had failed so often in the past. (And not just for myself, but for so many athletes and horses who were developed in the traditional manner, and hit a limit or broke)

Once you start understanding horses through that lens—behavioral science intertwined with body language and ethology braided in with emotional connection—you can't unsee it.

I started experimenting in new training methods and disciplines with my mares. I taught them target training, played with positive reinforcement, started Jade on scent work, rode trail courses, learned some liberty, and allowed them more freedom to participate. I can't explain the joy it gives me when my horses (especially mares!) are willing to leave their hay to play games with me in the field. Sage, my mustang, will stick by me for long sets—walking in step, trotting and halting on cue, even learning new difficult skills. Jade, the Hanoverian, prefers to show off her fancy moves with exuberant prancing, skilled spins, and an occasional excited strike and head toss (but she also burns herself out much faster). Still, I absolutely adore whatever they choose to offer each time. The trust and connection I've developed with both of my mares is undeniable.

I spent so much time in structured equestrian sport environments that this kind of connection (and fun) almost felt illicit. It certainly wasn't taken seriously. Old circles I used to be in wouldn't even consider it training. Yet...I don't know many FEI horses who are able to perform high-level movements without a bridle, like I saw with Mirka Crew's tiny Mustang, Marvel at the International Liberty Horse Festival (Lexington, KY). Their partnership brought tears to my eyes (which was really embarrassing because I was scribing for the judge!).

Once I broke free from the conventional circles of equestrian sport, I started finding new heroes everywhere. Trainers offering a new version of excellence that I desperately wanted to learn. They are performing, teaching, and competing in different disciplines with all kinds of breeds and using different methods—but they all speak the same language.

They start with connection, not expectation. They build through trust, not control. They put the horse first, even at the top of their sport.

That's the road I'm choosing now, a new kind of hero. My heroes are going to be the ones who remind me that leadership in horse-human relationships should be more like the natural herd...with an emphasis on choice, co-regulation, and responsibility. Understanding that leadership is earned moment by moment—not through control or relentless persistence.

Maybe you're in your own version of this journey. Maybe you've outgrown some of the heroes you were handed. Maybe you're searching for new ones who reflect what matters to you now—for me it's presence, empathy, clarity, connection.

If so, welcome. The air is clear out here!