Today, the lesson wasn’t just for the horse

This morning, I listened to the podcast episode my partner and I recorded on helping horses with past trauma. https://youtu.be/jw0tyM8kHVg?si=XOSzth5lc7Y3IAHC

I didn’t know how deeply it would prepare me for the session I was about to walk into.

The little mustang I’m working with has a history that could break your heart. She’s extremely defensive with her body and space—and today, she was especially guarded. Her person had been working on helping her accept injections, but by the time I arrived, her nervous system was overwhelmed.

So, I paused. I listened. I dropped into connection and did an animal communication session with her.

She told me that as a newborn foal in the wild, the stallion and others in the herd tried to kill her. Her mother, who was most likely old, died shortly after, and she was left completely alone, trying to survive. At only three months old, she was found by a rescue group—afraid, and somehow still alive.

She survived because she learned to defend herself from the very beginning.

And as she shared her story with me… my own childhood came flooding back.

I was born into trauma. The kind that teaches you, from your first breath, that you were not wanted and the world isn’t safe. That you must be hyper-aware, always on alert. That your body belongs to survival, not peace.

So many of us—human and horse—carry trauma in our tissues. It shows up in the way we flinch, shut down, overreact, or dissociate. And sometimes we think if we just work hard enough, it’ll disappear.

But the truth is… trauma doesn’t always vanish. What changes is our relationship with it.

When we slow down…

When we learn to notice the signals in our bodies…

When we create space to respond rather than react...

We begin to rewrite the story—not by erasing the past, but by building new patterns of safety in the present.

That’s what I taught my client today. That her mare may never fully let go of the need to protect herself. And that’s okay. Just like us, she can learn to recognize the sensations as they rise, and with time and trust, she’ll learn how to move through them with more ease.

The nervous system can be rewired. The body can find peace.

It takes patience. Presence. Compassion.

But it is possible.

Horses show us the way—if we’re willing to listen.

Horses are a window to our souls

If you’re walking this journey with a horse—or with your own healing—just know this:

You’re not alone. And you’re not broken.

You’re remembering how to feel safe being alive.