There are moments with horses that don’t come through training…
they come through listening.
I want to share a story about a little mustang named Sadie.
She was found on the range at three months old—alone, hungry, and frightened. Her mother had died, and the band she was born into pushed her out. When she tried to stay, they drove her away.
So she learned early…
that closeness wasn’t safe.
By the time I met her at three, she would pin her ears, strike, bite, or leave before anyone could get close.
But underneath all of that…
she loved and trusted her person.
That was the opening.
This wasn’t aggression.
This was defense.
A nervous system that had learned:
I have to protect myself.
One day, instead of training, I asked if I could simply sit with her and offer Reiki.
I couldn’t touch her.
So I stayed about 6–8 inches away.
And slowly… she softened.
Her head lowered.
Her breathing slowed.
Her eyes closed.
She let herself receive.
In that space, she shared what happened to her—losing her mother, being rejected, being forced to survive alone.
And suddenly… everything made sense.
Since then, we’ve been doing weekly sessions.
Now she tells us where she wants the work.
She walks away when she needs to release… and comes back when she’s ready.
Yesterday, she stood at the fence and offered her body for Reiki—
something she would have never allowed before.
And when we finished…
she stayed.
Calm.
Relaxed.
Present.
Sadie has taught me something I think we often miss:
Some horses—just like some people—are deeply sensitive to touch.
And when we don’t understand that…
we push them into tolerance instead of trust.
What looks like resistance…
is often protection.
What looks like defiance…
is often a nervous system asking to be met differently.
This is the work I’m devoted to now.
Helping horses—and women—feel safe enough
to soften…
to be heard…
and to finally receive.