From Childhood Passion to Purpose

My Journey to Helping HorseS

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawn to horses.

As a child, I was the one begging for pony rides, staring in awe at every horse I saw, and pretending my bicycle was a galloping steed. My first horse came into my life when I was nine, and from that moment on, my world revolved around them. Back then, I thought being an equestrian was simply about learning to ride, mastering techniques, and forming an unbreakable bond with a horse. But over time, I realized my love for horses was leading me somewhere much deeper—a journey of healing, understanding, and helping them move with true balance and comfort.

This path was not one I planned. It wasn’t part of a neatly designed career map or something I knew existed when I first stepped into a barn. Instead, it was a journey filled with unexpected challenges, heartbreak, and moments of clarity that shaped the work I do today.

The Turning Point: A Fall That Changed Everything

Like so many riders, I grew up in a world where training was focused on performance. If a horse resisted, we were taught to push through it, correct it, or “ride them forward.” While I loved my horses deeply, I didn’t yet understand what their bodies were telling me. I didn’t question why they struggled with certain movements or why some behaviors kept recurring no matter how much we trained. I did what I was taught, trusting that the system I was in had all the answers.

Then came the moment that changed everything.

It was at a horse show on the cross country field —a simple jump over a fence. But in an instant, everything went wrong. My horse Bella and I fell. At first, it seemed like we had both escaped serious injury. There were no immediate signs of broken bones or visible damage. But as the days and weeks passed, it became clear that something wasn’t right.

My horse moved differently. It was subtle at first—an occasional uneven step, a slight hesitation before a jump. But the signs grew stronger.

She became reluctant to move forward, resistant in ways she had never been before. I called vets, trainers, chiropractors, and farriers. Some saw nothing wrong, others gave vague answers, and a few offered treatments that brought temporary relief but never solved the issue. I was lost in a cycle of frustration, knowing in my gut that something deeper was happening but unable to find the missing piece.

Searching for Answers

The more I searched, the more I realized that traditional training and veterinary approaches often overlooked the root cause of a horse’s struggle. Lameness wasn’t always about a single injury or a simple soreness. It was about how a horse’s entire body adapted and compensated. Every misstep, every bit of tension, every resistance had a story behind it.

That realization led me to Celeste and the Balanced Through Movement Method (BTMM). From the first time I heard her speak about movement, posture, and the nervous system’s role in a horse’s soundness, I knew I had found something different.

For the first time, I began to see horses in a completely new way. It wasn’t just about what they were doing—it was about why. Why was a horse struggling to pick up a lead? Why did they feel heavy in the bridle? Why did certain behaviors persist despite training? The answers weren’t in stronger bits, more riding, or force. They were in the horse’s body, their nervous system, and the way they held onto past experiences—both physical and emotional.

Discovering the Power of Nerve Release and BTMM

As I learned more about BTMM and nerve release, I started working with horses in a new way. Instead of just looking at what a horse did under saddle, I began observing how they carried themselves naturally. I watched how they stood, how they shifted their weight, how they responded to touch. I started feeling tension in their bodies in ways I had never noticed before.

And then, I began releasing it.

The first time I saw a horse experience deep relief from a nerve release, I knew I could never go back to traditional training alone. The change was undeniable. A horse that had once struggled to engage their hind end suddenly found their power. A horse who had always been stiff through their poll finally softened. A nervous, anxious horse took a deep breath and let go of tension they had been holding for years.

It was like watching them come home to themselves.

Through this work, I realized how many horses had been labeled as difficult, stubborn, or untrainable when, in reality, they were in pain. They weren’t misbehaving; they were struggling. Their bodies had adapted to compensate for discomfort, and they had been doing their best with what they had.

I had spent years searching for a way to truly help horses, and now, I had found it.

The Mare Who Led Me Here

There is one horse in particular who shaped this journey more than any other. She was special from the start—intelligent, sensitive, and deeply intuitive. She had a way of making me question everything I thought I knew.

She struggled with movement in ways that didn’t fit into a simple diagnosis. She would feel amazing one day and completely different the next. There was no single injury, no clear answer. Traditional training methods only frustrated her, and every time I thought I had found a solution, it was temporary at best.

She forced me to dig deeper. To listen. To slow down.

When I began applying what I learned through BTMM and nerve release, everything changed.

Instead of fighting against her resistance, I started working with her body. I helped her find balance, release tension, and move in a way that felt good to her. And in return, she taught me more than I ever could have imagined. She showed me that healing isn’t linear. That progress sometimes looks like stillness. That true soundness comes not from forcing movement, but from restoring function.

She is the reason I do this work. Every horse I help carries a piece of her with them.

Helping Horses Find True Soundness

Today, my work is about more than just training horses. It’s about helping them move, feel, and live better. It’s about understanding their bodies on a deeper level and giving them the tools to heal. It’s about shifting the way we see lameness, behavioral issues, and training struggles—not as problems to be fixed, but as signals pointing us to something more.

I see the difference in the horses I work with. I see it in their eyes, in their bodies, in the way they start to trust again. And I see it in their people—riders and owners who, like me, have spent years searching for answers and finally find them in this work.

The little girl who first fell in love with horses never imagined she would end up here. She didn’t know that her passion would turn into a purpose. But looking back, I can see that this journey was always meant to be.

Because when you truly listen to horses, they will always lead you where you need to go.