The Day I Finally Rode Out

This Labour Day wasn’t just another public holiday, it was a milestone. After months of delays, uncertainties, and countless “maybe next times,” I finally went on my first outride. Even though my annual leave was rejected, even though it meant I might not get any sleep the night before and would have to work the same day after the outride, even though I was nervous about whether I could handle the hyperactive peony, Dahlia—it was all worth it. What followed was something deeply personal, healing, and unforgettable. So yes, this one deserves its own space here.

At first, things didn’t go as smoothly as I had hoped. Dahlia, the peony I was riding, flat-out refused to canter during the first half of the loop. I was honestly quite disappointed, half thinking maybe the moment I’d been looking forward to for so long was going to fall flat. But when she started to canter, the view, the exhilaration, the wind rushing past - it was everything. My adrenaline spiked, and I could feel the dopamine rush through me. It was one of those moments that makes your heart feel full and your soul light.

People ask me, "How have you managed to stay so consistent with horse riding classes?" I usually answer, "Probably because I don’t have to pay for it, the stable is just 15 minutes from my house - so it doesn’t take much effort to go, even on lazy days. And the coach is super encouraging. But I’m far from talented."

But if you asked me on a deeper level, I'd say this: horse riding is my safe space. It’s the one place where I’m not afraid to fall. I’ve fallen countless times, but I never stopped riding. I know I can just get back up again.

I don’t have to be, or pretend to be, perfect all the time. It’s okay to make stupid mistakes, because everyone does. There’s no pressure to compete with anyone. It’s just me, the horse, and my coach. The other riders support me, often helping to make up for my mistakes.  I don’t feel threatened by anyone here. They help, they cheer, they make space for growth. And in this space, I never feel judged or left behind.

So yeah, this outride wasn’t just a ride, it was a reminder of why I keep showing up, week after week, even on the hardest days. People sometimes ask me where I usually ride, and I always pause before answering. It’s not that I don’t want to share—it’s just that this place means a lot to me. Maybe that makes me a bit of a gatekeeper, but I intend to gatekeep my safe space forever. And for now, I’m happy to keep this little slice of peace just for myself.