The Horse Trails

It all started the day my mom signed me up for horseback riding lessons, it was third grade and my mom wanted to introduce me to many types of hobbies or activities that she thought I would like. Since I was little I was open to these new experiences so I willing went to the first lesson. I was all geared up with all the safety equipment when I saw the horse I would be riding that right there was the downfall. This horse was a stout little ugly thing named Romeo (weirdly enough) was the colour of dried out mud and hummus mixed together and I was lucky winner who got to clean it, apparently before you ride you have to clean the horse. So I cleaned the horse and then I was taught how to make Romeo stop and run, so I rode him down to this little pen and I made him trot, then once we were trotting Romeo randomly picked up speed and fast. Speeding in circles around the pin, I as a 3^rd grade become very weak to stay on, because I didn’t know how to stop him, so my last option was to fall off. I was traumatized.

After that I didn’t want anything more to do with horses, but my mom thought otherwise she thought I should go again because she had already paid for all my lessons I would be taking. I refused to go to my second lesson. But for the third and the fourth lessons I was forced to go, my mom refused to just sit there and see me grow up with a fear of horses, I went to these classes restraining from touching Romeo and tried a different horse named Holly. Once I had rode Holly I was not afraid anymore for she listening to me and made me feel safe again. Although after those lessons had expired I did not want to go again, today I am not afraid of horses, which would have been a reality if I did not go back and tried a different horse.