For my readers, every Wednesday I will be posting my journey through the ages and explain what it was like to be a part of the community and what I learned from it.
This is when it all started: Me trying to ride my dog.
Buddy and I
I was very lucky to be raised by a single mother who maintained two jobs to give me a great life, by adopting me when I was 9 1/2 months old, with amazing opportunities: like paying and driving me for horseback riding lessons once a week.
I started my first horseback riding lesson when I was 8, just because my best friend at the time was riding already and joined a 4-H group. She was telling me all about it on a train ride. I don’t remember where we came from or going to.
There were butterflies in my stomach the whole entire time on the way to the barn because I was anxious and excited.
I rode a pony named Pinky.
She was an older pony of the 4 or 5 lesson ponies that were there. She was the sweetest and one of the safest horses I ever rode. Which, for being a beginner horse, is what you want.
At the end of the ride, that is where gymnastics ended, and horseback riding began. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for both, so my mother gave me an option. One I never regretted.
After the end of the lesson, I knew this is where I belonged and called my second home.