Happiness Is Dropping the Reins

By Stephanie Thompson, Edmond, Oklahoma

As appeared in

Now that my marriage was over, there were a hundred things I needed to do to rebuild my life.

Riding lessons was not one of them. Yet here I was on a Saturday morning in sneakers and leggings, listening carefully to a woman in a cowboy hat. If I needed proof that my life had gone off the rails, this was it.

“Follow me into the barn,” said Mandy, the instructor. I trailed along at the end of the line of students, thinking back to the morning a couple of days before when I passed a handmade sign on the road advertising riding lessons. I’d stopped on a whim and whims were not my style. I did things for a reason, because they made sense. Not because they just felt right at the time.

Like when I got married. That was no whim. Marriage was the first step to the home and family I wanted. But it had all led to nothing. Now nothing in my life made sense anymore.

The scent of fresh hay and saddle leather filled the inside of the barn. I heard the sound of nickering and horses pawing the dirt. The other students were led to stalls.

Mandy took me out to the corral where my horse Meg was waiting, chewing on a wooden gate. She was sleek and black with white socks on her ankles and a blaze down the center of her face.

“Grab the saddle horn,” said Mandy. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, and swing your right leg over.”

Somehow I did it, and Mandy led us back to the group. I had no experience controlling a horse, so I let Mandy take the reins. I wished I had someone to guide me this firmly through the next phase of my life. But I would just have to struggle to get myself back on track.

Mandy brought us into an indoor arena. We learned to sit properly in the saddle, hold the reins and walk around a ring. When the lesson was over I couldn’t wait to come back.

Back home I sat around the empty house, ate dinner alone in front of the TV and aimlessly surfed the internet. Get it together, Stephanie, I told myself after another night of take-out and talk shows. You need to figure out where to go from here. Get started on your future! I thought about praying, but I didn’t know what to pray for.

The only time I felt driven to do anything was when my alarm went off on Saturday morning and I jumped out of bed, eager to get to the stable. Before long I was saddling Meg and hoisting myself onto her back on my own. Maybe there was no practical reason for spending time at the stables, but it felt right to be there. More right than anything else in my life.

I started staying late after class to help out with Meg’s grooming. Scrubbing the mare’s back and sides I felt more content than I had in months. When I rubbed Meg’s belly with a sponge and she bobbed her head like a child being tickled, I didn’t worry about the future. I just enjoyed the here and now.

One Saturday, after a brisk trot in the ring, I took hold of Meg’s lead rope. “Time to go back to the corral,” I said. She didn’t move. I yanked on her halter. She stepped to the side instead of turning around. I tried pushing her from behind. She just looked confused. “C’mon, Meg,” I said, pulling the halter again. I stamped my foot in frustration. Meg wanted to get back to the corral as much as I did. Why didn’t she just follow me there? I leaned against the rope with all my might.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” asked Mandy.

“I’m trying to get her back in the corral, but she won’t go,” I said.