I almost lost it, y'know. That lust to be riding through the rain when I'm already tired. The familiar joy of feeling the water splash around my feet when I'm racing barefoot down a beach as fast as my horse will carry me. The patience to face snotty noses rubbed against my new breeches and hay in my freshly washed bun before a show. But when I went to teach a little girl, face covered in excited tears, to ride for the very first time, that old burn was still there. I couldn't escape this sport, this deep set love for the friendships you form with both horses and riders. We are all different, and yet we're connected by a bond that runs so deep you'd have to break open our bones just to find the surface. Because deep down, we are still those little girls who first sat on a fat pony many years ago and knew, in our heart of hearts, this is where we belong