Healing from the ground up: How horses help me live through chronic illness.
**Trigger warning** This article contains mentions of COVID-19.
Four incredible horses, a quiet yard, and the simple presence of their breath have given me strength, calm, and purpose during the toughest years of my life.
When I contracted Covid-19 in April 2020, I thought I would recover quickly. I had always been healthy and active, playing three different sports, training daily, constantly moving. But weeks turned into months, and the setbacks kept coming. Five years later, I am still living with a chronic illness, in a body that no longer feels like the one I knew. Through it all, my horses have been my saving grace. Jack, my first horse, has been by my side since I was fourteen. My dad bought him in September 1998, and from that day, he became my partner, my comfort, my constant. When illness stole so much of my independence, Jack remained steady a familiar presence to lean on. Then came Winter, a young cob with striking blue eyes, whom I brought home in the summer of 2020 as a six-month-old foal. We formed an instant connection. Despite my limited mobility, I would take him for walks through the nearby fields. He would run freely while I moved slowly behind him, and in those quiet moments, I found freedom again not like on the sports field, but in a gentler, healing way. Shortly after, I welcomed Dexter, a beautiful grey cob who needed an emergency foster home. He was shy and withdrawn, wary of humans due to a difficult past. But I loved him immediately, sensing that we would learn from each other, and very soon the foster application moved to an adoption application and he was home. About a year later, another rescue joined my small herd, his name is Seb, and suddenly, the real learning began. I had to navigate this “new” version of myself, adapting to a restricted life, guided by four incredible horses who became my teachers. Dexter taught me patience. Simply sitting in the stable and listening to him breathe revealed a calm I rarely experience elsewhere. My own breath, often restricted, would slow as I tuned in to his. My heart rate would drop. For a few minutes, my body, constantly struggling to regulate itself, could relax. Seb taught me about the funny side of horse interactions, he's the entertainer of the herd. Jack taught me that some horses are forever and how deep love and loyalty is incredibly special and Winter taught me that I will always have him to lean on, as we still walk side by side with my hand on his back for support. Living with chronic illness is a constant state of fight or flight. But with my horses, I find an external escape. Grooming them, plaiting their manes, or simply being in their presence grounds me. They do not expect me to perform, speak, or pretend I have energy I do not possess. With them, I can just be. I can be present, and sometimes distracted in the best way momentarily stepping outside of my body and its constant battles.
Some days, it is my horses who get me out of bed. Feeding them, checking on them, or simply sharing a moment in the yard gives structure and purpose to days that might otherwise be lost to illness. People often ask why I keep horses if I don’t ride or compete, or why I invest in them when they bring no income. The answer is simple: they give me more than I have the words to describe. They anchor me, teach me patience, and fill my world with meaning. I may sometimes struggle to find my place in the horse world, but I have realised this: I belong beside my four wonderful cobs and they belong beside me.
