...You Get What You Need

The fantastic group of friends and family Ben (laying down) and I had in our wedding party.  

"Life is a collaboration, we don't do it alone." - Tim Gunn

A lot of my life I have spent in my own head.  It's just the sort of person I am--hyperanalytical, a perfectionist and perhaps a little bit self conscious.  The last two years, particularly the last year, have blown all of that out of the water.  And while this entry has been sitting, half written, for some time, it seems a particularly relevant topic given my current state.  I am crashed out on my couch, reading, with a cryo cuff wrapped around my finger.  Two freshly placed screws are holding most of a knuckle together, and I am happy for the ice cold water dampening the throbbing.  Needless to say, with two fragile screws in my hand post-surgery, I am not supposed to go near any horses.  

Even two years ago, had I been in this position, I would have had no idea what to do.  Part of an existence buried in my own head is a difficulty accepting that other people want anything to do with me beyond passing interactions.  When I read Denny Emerson's How Good Riders Get Good and hit the part about support groups, my first thought was, "shit, I don't have that...Maybe, maybe, I can do without that," because the thought of both putting myself out there maybe asking for help, and perhaps accepting help if any one was crazy enough to offer it, made me nauseous.

So much has happened between then and now to challenge and change how I interact with other people. First of all, moving to Vermont and living with a Vermonter has been a conflict with how I was raised; my family being obsessed with "what is acceptable," and how my new family did things. Ben's friends and family like to just show up and hang out because they wanted to see him or us. And as strange as this may seem, it totally took me aback and overwhelmed me.  Then, when Ben and I had some troubles with our housing situation and neighbors gave us a place to put the horses while trying to find a new home, it became clear there are people willing to help just because they can.  I appreciate it a lot more now and have accepted that people care without ulterior motives and might just want to be around me.  It sounds silly, but that has been hard for me.  

Last year, I bought a house and got married.  The hope was to have the wedding at the house. However, when you have property divided up by two streams and a pond with a wedding date inconveniently set after two moths of rain, it starts to look more like you'll be inviting people to go mudding rather than to a wedding.  So, Ann Kitchel at Huntington Farm, where I was (am) boarding, convinced me to get married at the farm.  I am very grateful for her generosity!  Between that and Denny forgiving me for spacing entirely about what day my lesson was on the week of my wedding, I was starting to realize that some folks just wanted to help me because... just because.  

And, it is important to note somewhere in here, even the support you receive that isn't directly related to horses,counts as support in equine pursuits.  While things like my mother-in-law hosting an awesome rehearsal dinner may seem unrelated to the horses, Ben's family's acceptance when I'm late because I was wrapping a hoof for someone else is more than I could ask.  It was also awesome to have so many horse people come help me celebrate.  One long term horse friend even flew in from California to be my bridesmaid, after I had done the same for her the year before.

Beyond accepting that people genuinely want to help me as much as I want to help them, these past few years I have been making horse friends in the area.  Somewhere along the line I abandoned hope on trying to have many non-horse friends (with a few exceptions).  It's not to bash non-horse folks, but after a particularly rough blow out with a long non-horse friend several years ago that ended with something along the lines of "no matter what, you always end up putting the barn first," something I didn't see the issue with, and I gave up.  And, being fairly introverted, this friends thing is hard.  However, circumstances have led me to meeting some amazing people in the area.  They are people I enjoy being around in the barn, without competitive pressure (a big one for me) and I can go grab a beer or text when something awesome (or awful, or silly) just happened.  Heck, I'm waiting for one now to send me the "he's on his way" text so I can see my new pseudo-nephew.  

The last major support related change I have made in the past few years: admitting when I need help.  This became a huge mountain for me, one that I climbed when deciding to resign as a high school teacher (huge for me because, well, I had to admit it wasn't a role I was ready for and I was overfaced).  I have a huge fear of failure and am petrified I will be judged as not good enough if I ask for help.  The summer before, after a mentally taxing lesson, Denny pointed out to me that no one else cares if I make a mistake.  And, like so many things he says, he moved on while I chewed on it.  He was right.  For a million reasons, I needed help when I decided to revisit pursuing horses, recovering from my job as a classroom teacher (seriously, thank your kids teachers... it takes so much more than you know), and revamping my life.  And, for once, I asked for that help. The people around me supported my decision.  My husband was relieved to help get the woman he married back, a new friend who had gone through a similar experience lent her support, and many others lent an ear.  Then, I found an awesome job and those employers have been amazing, even going out of there way to make sure I am taken care of while recuperating from my injury.

Full circle back to being injured.  I don't know what I would have done with my horses a few years ago in this predicament.  Now, I have people in my life I can trust to help.  I'll admit, I was nervous to ask for that help.  But, I couldn't be happier knowing what gentle hands my big gelding is in and what an understanding rider the atomic mare has working her.  I am also completely blown away by the help I have gotten from the community, right down to the persistent woman who made sure I saw an orthopedist (yes, I may have otherwise just let the mess I made of my hand stay, well, a mess... I am stubborn) and sat by my side as I zonked out and came-to from surgery.  

Support for riding comes in so many forms, some of it seemingly unrelated at first.  Everything is connected however, and without being mutually supported as well as supporting of others, life is a treacherous journey not lived to it's fullest.

PostScript: 
I also cannot emphasize enough how lucky I am to have an incredibly supportive husband I have. He helps me work toward my dreams and I try to help him with his.  He is the keystone to my support system.

My parents have also always been supportive, one way or another, whether they understand why I'd rather ride and live in the middle of no where or not.  Thankfully, they have recently come to grips with their stubborn child's career choice.