Lessons and Finding Your Sacred Space
It wasn't always like this. I didn’t always dislike myself.
One of the greatest lessons of my life is still being learned. Or rather, unlearned. I came out of the womb a feisty, fiery, self-assured aries. Right away, I always knew what I wanted and I never second-guessed myself. I’m sure most kids are the same.
Insecurity was taught to me. It was a learned behaviour. Kids would hurl cruel insults my way over my hobbies. My personality. Strengths. Weaknesses. My body. I was forced to question my worth and whether or not being myself was even worth the torture of existing in this social hierarchy of school. I began to apologize for who I was. Wished that I could be someone else.
None of That Existed
I insisted on working at a horse farm in exchange for riding lessons; being 11 and absolutely horse-crazy I would have done just about anything to be in the presence of a horse. When I was told that yes, I could ride, but I would also have to work. Take care of the horses. Clean up after them. I didn’t bat an eye, that actually sounded better than just riding. Spend a whole day at the farm with horses? Sign me up.
Every weekend on that farm I was reborn. I was allowed to come back to myself. Not only was I given the opportunity to test my physical boundaries, and accomplish something meaningful…but then I got to ride! An 11-year-old girl making a partnership with a 1,500-pound animal is empowering in ways that you cannot describe without experiencing it yourself.
Being surrounded by strong, confident, empowering women who encouraged me to shed the skin that I felt trapped living in during the week. Sitting at a desk reading threatening notes from classmates. Being told that I was too fat. That I tried too hard. I was annoying. That I was too sensitive. I studied too much.
But none of that existed when I stepped into those riding boots.
Moments that left me breathless
I remember once galloping full force in a mowed-down cornfield. My soulmate with four legs was running so fast, that I didn’t even feel like her feet were touching the ground. I knew in my mind that one untoward sound, one bad step, anything that might possibly interfere with this rhythm and momentum…could end in disaster. Injury, for sure, or worse. But in my gut, I was completely fearless. I was so at peace. That moment left me breathless. And it still does, decades later.
Several years later, my horse refused to let me catch her in the field. She would skip away whenever I got close to catching her. I’m sure she thought it was hilarious because her four legs outmatched my two (very short I may add) legs every time. In a bemused huff, I dropped down onto the grassy field. I took a few deep breaths and I closed my eyes for a moment. It was a Saturday. I had all day anyway. The sun beat down on my face. The grass tickled my arms. It was so peaceful. After a few minutes, I felt a warm breath on my face so I opened my eyes and was greeted by a soft velvety nose and two large brown eyes. In that moment, I lost all fear and insecurity. I was one with nature. I was connected. It took my breath away.
Learning and Unlearning Lessons
I’m not proud to say that, over time, the way that I spoke to myself paled in comparison to the jokes, the snark, the gossip and isolation that I faced daily. It wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse. I had learned from my peers to be cruel to myself. I'd beat myself up over everything I said, everything I did, and I wouldn’t let it go. I would force myself to ruminate over all of the ways that I perceived that I was failing. Events where I would make myself the villain, the failure, or the fool. I became my biggest bully.
Being unkind to yourself is so hard to unlearn. I am still trying to unlearn it.
But I know that fearless girl in the field is in there somewhere.
Find Your Sacred Space
While I still have my horse, I don’t ride as often anymore. She’s an old gal now, 24 years old and she enjoys walking in the fields. We don’t gallop anymore. But we still deeply enjoy each other’s company. Being around horses is the closest that I can ever get to being fully present in the moment as an adult. It’s something that I hope to never lose.
I would hate to think of where I would have been if I didn’t have that sacred space. On the farm, in the saddle, with a determined smile on my face. In my gut, I know that it is the antidote to all of the insecurity that I still carry with me to this day. It’s a lesson that I am still learning, every day.
Written by Lindsey Duff
The WE blog is a collection of stories and journal entries from women sharing moments in their life that left them breathless. We believe in celebrating all moments, whether they are the happiest moments of your life, moments that left you feeling lost or moments where you healed yourself again and again. We are here for all of it. No moment is too small. No moment isn’t worth celebrating. This is a safe space to share. A place where you can be yourself. A place to heal.
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