The Beginning of Something New

There is something potently magical about horses that I have been drawn to since I was a little girl. Their strength, their compassion, the way they move their body effortlessly across the Earth, the way they are unapologetically wild and free. They are beings that I am completely in awe of, and I am stunned if others are not. Horses hold the grace of the sky; they are the fallen stars on Earth that have come to brighten up our lives during times of despair and darkness.  

Naturally, human beings want to contain and control what is not theirs to claim. For centuries horses have been captured and broken in and tamed for the use and disposal of people. Whether it be as transport as horse carriages, animal labour to carry heavy items, or, and the main one, used to ride into war.  In retrospect, it is heartbreaking the way people have treated these gorgeous creatures over time. Unfortunately, horses in the modern world still experience abuse and mistreatment from people.  

In today’s world, horses are used for various different activities that are no longer close to what they were meant for back in the day. In the equestrian industry, they are placed in showjumping, dressage, cross-country, rodeo events as well as racing. People also have equine-assisted therapy for emotional support, recreation and tourism as well as in the police force in other countries. The different reasons why people have horses vary from person to person, and I feel a big change is coming in the horse world.  

Online I see a lot of people encouraging different training methods as opposed to harsh, forceful or even abusive methods to make your horse understand what you want from them. It is refreshing to come across videos of people who save and rescue horses, of those wanting to understand their horse before trying to make their horse understand them. Everyone’s approach to horses is also unique and different, but in my opinion, it will never be a “wrong” approach if it is filled with love, confidence and most importantly, good intentions.  

I always knew that from all the people in the area that I live in, my approach to horses would be different, gentler, maybe even kinder. I never believed in using spurs, I hated using a crop often when I took riding lessons and I was always told that I am “too soft” with them. My cheeks would blush red when the horse I was on wouldn’t listen to me and I inwardly urged them to please listen and follow the task, which worked sometimes, but not always. I was told multiple times that I had so much potential (for showjumping), so much talent and it would be a shame to waste it and I was encouraged to enter shows and competitions, but it never really felt right. Even if I wanted to, it was, and still is, an expensive sport that my mother or I could not afford. The compliments made me feel good, like I belonged among the other equestrians, but deep down I knew my connection with horses lay deeper than sitting in a saddle and kicking them to make them do what I want.  At the time, when I was a teenager, I didn’t really know any different from what people were telling me and I felt more like the weird girl at my stables rather than a proper rider.  

After many of my lessons, because I used to go once a week, I would always ask if I could take the horse I was on for a cool-down walk in the big paddock which is an open, spacious field filled with peace. I was mainly riding a horse named Jack Daniels, whom I trusted with my life and adored to bits and pieces, and we used to walk in the large field, breathing in the fresh air, simply walking and taking in the beauty of our surroundings. I would swing my feet out of my stirrups, lengthen my reins and often tell him updates of my life. His ears would swap and turn back to listen to me, or one ear would be forward and the other slightly back to concentrate on my voice. He always made me feel better, even if we didn’t perform nicely during the riding lesson. I would sometimes also let him canter or gallop across the field for fun which was always exhilarating for me, and I’m sure he was grateful to let out some extra energy with no expectations as well. He never took advantage of my trust in him and always slowed down or stopped when I asked him to.  

Unfortunately, the owner of the stable yard sold him to another couple, and I cried for days when he was gone. It broke my heart that he left the stables and I couldn’t do anything about it. My goodbye to him was also very difficult to cope with because we were so closely bonded and I know he felt the same way. I still think about it at times and wonder where he is in the country, and if he is happy.  

He is not the only one I have built a connection within my life, but he was very special to me, and he still has a piece of my heart with him, whoever he is with and where ever he is. I don’t think I would ever find another horse like him.  

My journey with horses came to a brief end when I decided to jump into the yachting industry. There was no more riding, no more grooming, no more carrots to give, just working and traveling the world. I hadn’t forgotten my passion for horses, or my deep devotion and love for them, but I had to focus on the part of my life that I was in, the new path that I had chosen. I’d always known that I was working for my future self, to be able to build the life that I had craved for so long. To live on a big piece of land with as many horses as I could imagine, living my dream life, living on my own terms. My salary was an amazing jump start to that, if I had saved it and distributed it correctly, which I had done for the most part. I never really knew when my time on the boats would end, and I had always imagined it would be when I had finally reached my financial goal, or when I had bought my own apartment or property, or when I was closer to age 30. But I decided to quit yachting before any of that happened. It wasn’t a sudden shift or change; my subconscious had been urging me for a long time to follow my true dreams and passions. It had finally come to fruition in April 2026, when I was on my last boat and all the good aspects of the boat that I was told about disintegrated within three weeks of being hired as the temporary stewardess. 

Before I left again for my seventh boat, I returned to Animals in Distress as a volunteer in the equine department, along with my amazing mentor Jean, who was so happy to have me back after being gone for just less than a year.   

It was specifically January that I had started to notice Phantom, the chestnut mare. I used to spend solitude hours with the different horses to simply try and connect with them. But the herd that Phantom was in was not so friendly. She was in the paddock with three other mares, who are all still at SAID. They would, and still do, pull their ears back and show signs of aggression. I would leave them be and try spend time with the donkey, Zeus, who was also with them, who was obviously the odd one out.  

One day I was in the paddock with him, and the other horses came nearby, pinning their ears back and attempting to bite each other, but I ignored them so long as they didn’t try hurt me, and continued playing with Zeus, until Phantom appeared in front of me, coming dangerously close, also with ears pinned back, until I decided to quickly hop back on the other side of the fence. Zeus and the others ran away in different directions. I told her in a visibly shaky voice that I do not trust her. I was a bit shaken up but only from fear of the unknown. I had seen her before, but we never really got close in proximity to one another, as she was unfriendly and unapproachable and never let anyone get near her. She was known as the wild mare. 

She had calmed down, her breathing had slowed, and her body was right up against the fence. I slowly put my hand on her shoulder, gently touching her, and felt the tension leaving her body. This was the moment that I felt chosen. My hand was on this horse that I didn’t know, my heart was pounding in its cage, and my mind was spinning with doubts and potential dangers. But once she was relaxed, my fear began to dissolve.  

I was watching her face while scratching her shoulder, her ears still slightly back and her eyes wide open, suspiciously side eyeing me from her point of view. I knew the significance of this moment, the impact it would have on me for the rest of my life, even if for some reason I never did see her again. It was a simple moment in time, filled with endless meaning.

I think we were both still nervous and unsure of each other, but there was this energetic pull between the two of us, a silent, subtle magnet drawing us together. I had never experienced something so deep and wordless in my life until that day. It was as if this beautiful, wispy horse took a chance on me by running directly towards me and so boldly turning her body to the fence. I am so grateful for that chance. I remember tears welling up in my eyes as I realized what was happening, and I truly did feel so overwhelmed with privilege and honour that a horse like Phantom would ever give me a chance.  

Over the next few days and following weeks, I would go to her paddock and call her name, wait for her to come up to me to ask nicely for scratches. It became routine. For both of us. She slowly began to recognize who I was, and I slowly began to look forward to our time together. 

It never really reached beyond slight physical contact of scratches, for she was still nervous and wary of my intentions. Eventually I started going into the paddock, and she would stand cautiously by me, enjoying the pets and scratches. One “wrong” move from me or one little movement that scared her and she would walk away. She never allowed me to touch or stroke her face. It was always her shoulders and back area.  Our growing connection was strange, but I did understand where she was coming from. 

The beginning stages were lovely and impactful, because there was hardly any expectations from either of us. I didn’t rush into tacking her up, riding her, or even grooming her as I was happy to simply stand there and touch her. She didn’t really have expectations from me either, just for me to simply be there with her.  

At some point they moved the herd to a different paddock, one that was right next to where Da Vinci was and his companion at the time, Fire Fox. I had started to spend time with those two horses as well, never really sure of Da Vinci’s name, only that he was quite a bold and confident horse. I would groom him, take him on a halter and walk him around, splash him with some water, as it was during summertime that my path with these two was being carved out and I didn’t even know it at the time! 

Of course, I was desperately looking for work overseas, despite the fact I could feel my heart telling me to stay and be with Phantom. I was also worried that if I left and came back, she would be gone, that someone else would see her potential and take her. Still, I was applying and applying and applying and I eventually got a job and they wanted me to fly out last minute. 

My family encouraged me to go and helped me out with tickets and flights. I really didn’t want to go. But I did. And for a month and a half, during my monotonous days of cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, I thought of nothing but Phantom. I wondered what she was doing, if anyone else had noticed her, if she would remember me when I returned, if she would even still accept me after I left for a period of time. Thinking of her helped me through my boring days and was part of my motivation to work hard for my decent salary.  

The yacht I was working on was never going to be a permanent option for me, so I had to decide. I either would continue searching for a boat that was looking for permanent crew or finally give in to my path and settle at home.  With too much time to think, with mulling over all the pros and cons of each option, I had decided to end my yachting career.  

Now any yachtie or ex yachtie would tell you it’s never quite a simple case leaving the industry, especially South Africans who prefer overseas to our country. It is a unique and addictive world to be in. Always high on adrenaline, chasing lots of money and tips, trying to execute perfection in your every task and traveling to as many parts of the world as you can manage. That is the basis for addiction of yachting from someone who has worked in that world.  

Ultimately for me, the high I was on for the past five years had worn off. I went from desperately trying to keep my spot on a yacht to feeling unhappy, and starting to hate trying to be perfect when I wasn’t, as well as tired of missing out on my family and friends’ lives, along with constantly leaving my animals behind.  

Returning home was one of the best decisions I have made. I still carry uncertainties with me, sometimes have my doubts and sometimes get the urge to want to go back to yachting, but for the most part it was the right thing for me to do. I am now working for myself, on my own terms, living my life the way I want to, not how some bossy head of department wants me to or a crude millionaire yacht owner. And the most important thing to me, is that I am happy.  

Returning home brought me back to my heart horse. She forgave me and welcomed me back into her life with warmth and kindness. I believe she knew she occupied my mind and heart, even though I was so far away and working a job I hated. Our journey officially started when I came back. I was pouring most of my time and energy into her because I knew she had greatness in her, and I was right.  

With Jean’s help, I turned her wild independence into a blossoming partnership. Patience, learning, mistakes, confidence and willingness all led to the miracle of Phantom’s story today. From no one being able to touch her without the bribery of carrots, to her running up to the fence when someone is near is a huge milestone. People had given up on her, people had dismissed her, people had once tried to force bits and bridles on her without care and patience and so she turned her back against the world.  

I am just so lucky that I was the one who was able to guide her to trust again. To be the one to work with her through all her doubts and to connect with her on a much deeper level. I am proud of my miracle of Phantom, and I am actually so glad that my last boat turned out the way it did, otherwise it would never have led me to the conclusion that Phantom was my destination the entire time. Every thought I’ve ever had, every setback in life, every choice I have made has led me straight to her.  

It may sound drastic, dramatic or pathetic to some, but the significance it has to me is what matters and what counts. I am grateful I have such a beautiful story to share with the world. I truly wish all horses could get a second chance the way Phantom was lucky enough to. 

I have met many incredible horses over my few short years of living, and I really aim to impact and save as many as I can. Unfortunately, I cannot bring home all the abused and neglected horses home with me, but if I can at least play my part in connecting with them and helping rehome them, I will be happy. Horses are truly amazing beings, filled with so much wisdom and strength, and they should be treated in a way that honours them and respects them.  

Our story and path have only just begun, and I am ecstatic to see how far we go in this lifetime. Waking up to her and Da Vinci peering over their paddock gate, waiting for me is a dream come true. A dream I thought I could never achieve because of my financial and homely status, because of my approach to horses and my lack of skill of taking care of my own, yet here I am, living in my own dream. I hope everyone can find their own happiness the way I have, the peace that follows when you walk on the road that was paved for you. And as stated all over my pages; dreams were made to be followed, and this is me following all of mine and inspiring you to follow yours as well! It’s never too late to find and fulfill your passion, your calling will come to you when the time is right.