About Me
My Journey with Horses - and Myself
From Control to Compassion
Helping horse owners shift from traditional pressure to heart-led partnership
I Was Never Afraid of Horses—I Was Afraid of Life
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt drawn to horses — not with fear, but with a quiet longing.
As a child, after early years spent facing hospital surgeries and long separations, I clung to safety wherever I could find it. Horses called to me, offering peace. Their presence was steady, honest, unspoken — but all too rare in my life.
I dreamed of a connection like the one I saw in Champion the Wonder Horse — a wild stallion who would appear as if by magic to carry a boy bareback, no saddle, no reins. Just trust.
But the real horse world didn’t offer that dream. It taught obedience, dominance, and fear.
So I tucked the dream away, and by fourteen, I’d stopped riding altogether.
Life moved on — through survival, hard work, and years of learning how to keep going in a world that often mirrored the very control Iwas later to recognise in the horse world.
And then, at 46, I met Dolly.
Meeting Dolly: A New Beginning.
Dolly wasn’t polished or perfect. A former broodmare, overlooked and under-muscled — but something in me stirred when I saw her.
At the time, I didn’t understand it. But now I know:
I didn’t just choose her.
She chose me.
At first, I did everything I thought I should. I tried so hard to “get it right.”
But stress crept in. Doubt followed.
And Dolly — sensitive, honest — reflected it all back.
She wasn’t being difficult. She was telling me the truth.
Connection can’t grow where fear lives.
When others used punishment and control, and told me I would never ride her again.
I made a different choice:
I listened.
And in return, Dolly began to trust me — not as a master, but as a partner.
We built something rare: a relationship without fear, without force.
One rooted in empathy, trust, and choice
Loss, Awakening, and the Deeper Truth
Losing Dolly was heartbreak — the kind that doesn’t go away.
But it brought clarity too.
I began to see more clearly:
How fear is still packaged as wisdom.
How control is still sold as safety.
How deeply these patterns damage not just horses — but people too.
It is never just about riding.
It is always about power.
Real power comes with the courage to choose something different.
Reclaiming My Power
I didn’t just study horses. I studied people.
And most of all, I studied myself.
Through the Centre of Excellence, I trained in Life Coaching, certified by the Complementary Medical Association. That training helped me understand the emotional intelligence I’d always had — the ability to sense what others are feeling, and gently guide them back to their centre.
My emotional intelligence is what deepened my bond with Dolly. Once I understood horses as prey animals — sensitive, intuitive, and always seeking safety — everything changed. I didn’t need dominance. I needed empathy.
I now study Horse Psychology (also through the Centre of Excellence), to better explain the signs I intuitively feel. I want to help others see what their horses are showing them — in a way that’s practical, kind, and easy to apply.
Using psychology not as a tool to train but as a form of communication, to understand.
Alongside my formal learning, I’ve immersed myself in the teachings of Bob Proctor and Dr Joe Dispenza. Their work helped me unlearn old patterns and raise my awareness. Many of the tools I now share with clients are rooted in their teachings — always offered in a way that’s grounded and personalised.
I’m also a member of the Complementary Medical Association and hold life coaching insurance through Westminster Insurance.
This Dream is Not New.
I created this video back in 2012, when Dolly was still alive. Even then, I knew there was something special about the connection between a person and a horse.
At the time, I was experimenting with self-taught natural horsemanship. I had no idea what I was doing — and neither did Dolly. But through our connection, we figured it out together, and ended up free-lunging for the first time.
That day taught me something I carry with me still: you don’t need to be perfect — you just need to be listening
