Riding Phantom feels surreal, almost like a quick blur of pure ecstasy of happiness. The view of her long, curved neck with her messy, red mane is a feeling so indescribable. She brings me peace, a cushion of emotional safety and child-like joy. I’ve been on her back four times now, since the day of taking her home and each time it just feels more and more natural; as if her back was designed to carry me through the rest of my life, our souls made of the same stardust.

Drenched with anxiety and fear in the days leading up to riding her for the first time, I resorted to taking a natural calming remedy known as Rescue. I took about fifteen of them before the final step of rehoming Phantom and Da Vinci.

I had seen what Jean went through to get her used to the idea of having someone on her back and in the back of my mind I had imagined countless times that she would try to throw me off her. I was still so nervous beforehand, even though I had witnessed her improvement over time with tack and riding, that Jean felt the need to tell me I didn’t necessarily have to get on her that day if I didn’t feel comfortable.

I did it anyways. I knew she was just as frightened as I was, I knew this was new to her as it was to me and I relied on the solid strength of our bond that nobody would end up hurt; not her nor me.

I was visibly shaking before hopping on, hesitancy was my middle name in that moment. Yet she waited so patiently for me to gain the courage to get on. I watched her ears and her head the entire time, for any signs of distress or discomfort. But all I received was a soft acknowledgement of the same fear and the same hope that was residing within me. We are each other’s mirror for our souls.

I remembered all the other times I felt fear in my life yet conquered it with bravery. I remembered that I had basically been riding my whole life and that horses galloped through my veins. I did not understand this fear of mine to ride Phantom. I quickly realised that the fear I had was crawling from a place of wisdom; someone smart would not get on a wild horse without thinking it through.

I also realised that I had been riding schooled horses, “tame” ones, my entire life. I hadn’t been on a horse that was not used to riders. It made sense that I was afraid. But I also knew this was different than all those other times I rode horses that were schooled and used to being ridden. This was a bond that had been built from scratch. She hadn’t let anyone come near her or catch her without struggle since…I don’t even know when. She was the Phantom of the shelter. Hidden in the shadows, a running dream, a trickle of water through your hands; just when you think you’ve got her, she’s already slipped through your fingers.

When the time arrived to finally ride her, flashbacks from the beginning of our friendship, up until Jean stepping in to guide us towards each other through connect, played in mind. The playback that was the most prominent was her throwing Jean off her back. She didn’t really try that hard and she was almost more afraid than violent that first time. But I was afraid that she would hurt me if she didn’t understand why I was now the one on her back.

Jean was holding her reins tight, while I was having an internal battle with myself and comforting both Phantom and myself. I even began asking beginner questions (no offense), such as how fast or slowly should I get on! Now that is just gold. An experienced rider from 6-years-old to 18-years-old asking the question of what speed to swing your leg over is truly comical. I laugh about it now, but at the time I was filled with nerves and doubt.

I stopped procrastinating and I got on. The nerves were soon replaced with excitement and turned into a beacon of hope. I was on her and I was fine! She felt extremely tense beneath me which is a normal reaction for new horses, but she withheld all or any intentions of bolting away or bucking me off. She was so good.

I still wanted Jean to walk next to us as Phantom and I were both not used to this new step in our relationship. It was a significant moment that will never be forgotten. My mom was present, as well as Shayur, Wild Reverence’s brand manager. They were both so happy for me.

We only walked around twice or three times, but it was enough to know that she trusted me and I was able to place trust in her. I was exhilarated and adrenaline rushing through me that this special day was finally happening and everything was going just so perfectly. I had ridden Phantom, which was the final step before bringing her home with me, along with my dopey donkey, Da Vinci.

Once she was home, I didn’t push to ride her for the first few weeks. I was still slightly afraid of her temperament and her own nervousness and more importantly, I wanted her to settle in properly without any expectations of her to do scary things. I wanted her to get used to her wide, open space, to grow confidence on the new land and to get used to the idea that she is no longer an orphan in an animal shelter.

I felt she was more ready than I to be ridden at home, that she was waiting for me to grow my own confidence with her. Still, I did not push her or myself. I was more than happy and content to simply wake up to two beautiful faces peering over the gate politely waiting for breakfast. It felt unreal that I had finally adopted my own two horses.

The time arose when I felt we could begin our riding again. Despite my nerves, I knew I had to do it. That was the day my mother sadly left the country to go work in the UK, the 10^th of July. I decided to rope my aunt into helping me. It was a struggle again to be able to put the bridle on but with much patience, we eventually managed and succeeded. My aunt was the one holding onto Phantom’s reins this time and I knew it was up to me to take control of the situation if it did for some reason get out of hand, but again, I hoped with everything in me that it would all be fine.

It took me a few minutes to be able to build the courage to get on but with motivation from my aunt and the clear, obvious signs of patience and love from Phantom, I managed to swing my leg over the saddle from the black chair. A smile of pure joy broke across my face when I realised I was still on and nothing had gone wrong. She stood so still, so patiently and with calmness that I never would have expected from her. My aunt in turn was thrilled for me. I couldn’t believe it; I was on my horse in the back field of my home! My biggest dream since I was a little girl.

I decided we would just stand for a few minutes, for the both of us to process what was actually happening. What stood out to me was her lack of anxiety and stress. I could feel she was not tense like she was when being ridden at SAID. She was so relaxed with me on her that she began falling asleep. I felt that that was the biggest compliment I could receive from a horse and was overcome with so much happiness at how far we had come together, at how much progress she was making in such short time. It is absolutely miraculous to be witnessing such greatness and even more so to be a part of it. I could not have been prouder of Phantom than in that moment, of us in the ring, my beaming aunt and my heart overflowing with pride and love.

I never expected her to have come such a far way in such a short amount of time, and I think the zero expectations on her may have helped her gain her own confidence more than I could imagine. Without the stress of pressure, without the force of a human to “break” her, she has blossomed into her own bold and brave character that I am so proud to know.

I have ridden her twice since then, each time just advancing even further than before. But the most recent time is the most special to me; because there was no one else around, no one helping us, no one watching us, just her and I, and my sweet donkey who was gently nibbling the delicate tape that keeps the ring upright.

There was no hassle, no drama and no fear. It was just us against the world. My heart felt overly heavy and sad that day and I pushed away what was weighing me down to focus on riding my horse, but Phantom knew and she didn’t just carry my body, she uplifted my sore heart.

We walked around our own ring for about twenty minutes, practicing walking without hesitation and fear and I was so happy with how well she was doing. She listened, she responded and was always listening to my voice. As sorrowful as I was, Phantom made the world a brighter place with her warmth and understanding. I don’t need to tell her anything with my voice, she simply listens to the thud of my heart, the whispers of my soul and immediately understands me. I am so grateful to have such a special horse as her and wouldn’t trade her for the world.

I don’t ride her to control her; I ride her to connect with her. Each ride just enhances with greatness. I don’t believe she would ever purposefully throw me off or hurt me, but that is not to say mistakes and accidents won’t occur in the future, which is a bridge to cross over when we get there. For now, she is doing beautifully and she knows I don’t love her because I can ride her; I love her because she is the light in my soul that has been hidden for a long time.