She told me this week she was done…finished with tears in her eyes. Her voice was loud, direct and forceful with a hint of fear. I heard the fear mostly. I usually ignore the tears but I heard the fear. I tried to question her about the fear but it only made her angrier…more upset. She turned my questions into hate and accused me of hating her. How could she ever imagine in her mind that I could ever have the capacity in my soul to hate her? My oldest daughter…my first born…the child that changed my entire life and existence. I felt disappointment…sadness but hate, never hate.
I picked her up from the barn after her riding lesson. She cried the whole way home. She said, “Mom…I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to ride anymore. I haven’t wanted to ride for a long time. I have been doing it for you. I don’t want to upset you but it is not fun doing something when you are always afraid.” That was all I heard….AFRAID. It was screaming at me AFRAID…it could have been flashing on a huge neon sign in front of my face. Your daughter is afraid. Now this is where I need to digress a little because you may not know me well but I hate fear. I loath fear and never ever want to be controlled by fear. So as you can imagine that was the worst thing I wanted to hear. My ability to only hear that my daughter was going to stop a sport that she has been doing from the age of 2 because of fear, was not sitting well with me. I tried in my way to counsel her on the emotion of fear. If you have or have ever had a fifteen-year-old daughter you can imagine that this did not go so well.
When we arrived home we quietly sat in my bedroom. I decided to stay quiet and let her cry. The tears streaming down her face and hitting the suede bench she was laying on. At times she would turn her face from me so she could not see mine. She said, “Mommy it is so sad.” I said, “Yes it is,” with tears in my eyes… that upset her more. I tried to ask if it is so sad for you why are you doing it. Again that upset her. We sat quietly for a good thirty minutes. I had a million thoughts and feelings going through my head. I reassured her I was not mad, or angry and no I did not hate her. I told her I have never forced her to ride it was always what she gravitated to. I reminded her when she was five she gave it up for a year but decided she missed it too much. I brought up the time she broke her arm from a fall…I told her you never have to ride again. She was the one that showed up in my bedroom one morning with all her riding clothes on stating, I am riding today!” She nodded acknowledging yes this was all true. But, this is the kicker…truth is relative to each individual. In my reality her truth was she wanted to ride…she loved it no matter what happened and she was working hard to continue. Her truth was she loved the barn, she loved our horses, she was afraid we would sell them so she was going to try to ride through fear. Now I knew she was afraid and I would question her over and over again are you OK are you afraid…her response always, No Mommy I love Caesar…I know he won’t do anything.
I believed her! I wanted to believe her. I was so proud of her. Caesar was my big beautiful horse that I just could not ride anymore. A few back injuries made it very difficult for me to ride him without having back pain. She rode Caesar well. She rode him brave and strong and never showed the fear that was paralyzing her on the inside. I had a great plan. I always have great plans. Carina would continue to ride him and in three years when she leaves for college my youngest daughter would ride him. It was perfect I could almost see it. I guess I forgot that sometimes my plans don’t always work out, especially when other people and animals are involved. It really wasn’t so much for me that she wanted to stop riding and focus on the sport of Lacrosse, which is truly her passion that upset me. It was that something I share with my daughters…all my daughters, was coming to an end. I am at the barn many days with my girls. Many times we ride together…in the ring, on a trail, along a beach. Even on vacations their dad would golf and we would try to find a place to ride. There is nothing like being on a horse and having your daughters with you. I really was fortunate that this dream of mine…the togetherness lasted this long. I was so lucky that they all liked the barn. I spent countless hours and years in barns with my girls teaching them about life and love through the care of our horses. This is what I was thinking as tears rolled down her face. They rolled down mine as well. She was finally growing; learning how to stand up for her desires and dreams. Isn’t this everything I worked so hard to teach her? Well, here we are. She left my room sure but sad. She left while I continued to sit there and not move. She left and all I could see was the tear stains on the bench where she sat. I didn’t care that the bench was tear stained. I secretly hoped they would be there forever. They would mark this momentous time between her and I.
I intellectually knew all of this but that other part of me, the strong fighter part of me wanted to push through. I wanted to tell her that she would experience fear for the rest of her life. Fear will seep into her when she least expects it. If you don’t guard against it that fear can shatter love, dreams and goals. Fear seeps in the night. Fear is frightening, controlling and explosive if it becomes out of control. I wrestled with telling a fifteen-year-old girl that someday she may be afraid of her loved ones. She may be afraid of a boyfriend or husband. She may be afraid of loss. She may be afraid and feel like her life will never be the same. I wanted to tell her that was the time you stand up strong, follow your gut and keep pushing through fear. But I didn’t…I only saw her tear stains on the bench.
She went to bed later on that night accusing me of not loving her anymore. I hugged and kissed her and told her I loved her tons. She later confessed that she cried herself to sleep because she loves Caesar so much. The next day we were quiet with one another. She accused me of being mad at her. She said that I wasn’t speaking to her so I must be mad at her. The funny thing was I wasn’t speaking to her out of not wanting to cry and go on my lecture of fear. I was trying to make it easier for her. To be honest no matter what we did, what we said or didn’t say it wasn’t easy for either one of us. We talked later in the afternoon. I should say she talked and I listened. She talked a lot. She said at the end, “I feel better Mom from our talk do you feel better?” NO, I didn’t feel better but I knew we were at a crossroad. This was it and it was big. She was making a decision for herself, for her life and I was going to give her the reins. It was her time to ride into the sunset so to speak or not ride into it but maybe run.
We went to the barn the following day. She groomed Caesar and showed my middle daughter how to tack him up. She helped her bring him to the ring and she handed the reins off to her. She walked out of the ring and watched. She watched her sister’s lesson more closely than I ever saw. She even walked to the other end of the fence where she could see her better. She watched her sister ride Caesar for her very first time. She watched her sister collect him, trot and canter. She watched her sister relaxed, smiling and laughing as she rode this big beautiful animal. She looked at me and said, “Mom, they look so good together. Look how calm he is with her.” I just looked at her with a nod and said, “I know.” If you could have x rayed my heart you would have seen it swell with pride for my other daughter with a slight chip in the corner of broken sadness. She said, “I am not giving up horses Mom…I love the barn and being here with you I just don’t love to ride anymore.” All I could say as I looked at her was, “I know. “
I walked back into the ring and watched Caesar’s next rider with a huge smile on her face. She looked so pleased with herself and almost shocked by the joy she felt riding him. I smiled back knowing that joy only to well. He is an incredible horse that has pulled me through many difficult times in the past 11 years. He was doing it again. Many times I walked through the barn with a shattered heart only for Caesar to help put it back together. Sometimes I think that horse knows the cracks around my heart more than I do. Sometimes I think he has held my fears and sadness on every ride we have been on only to send me on my way healed a little more. Even though I am no longer riding him as I used to he is still a part of what continues to put each small chip back to keep my heart whole and strong. I feel blessed once again that he will continue to be a huge part of my life with the next generation. At least for now until my other daughters decide to take the reins of their lives and decide on their own how they will go off into the sunset. One thing I am sure about though. No matter how they decide to go I will be heading into it on horseback.
Blessings,
Sally.
In The Valley 