The Magic of Minerva McGonagall

Every body is an equestrian body, which is why August is focusing on size inclusivity on YourDressage. As we share the stories, struggles, and triumphs of plus-size equestrians from across the country, our friends at Horse Dazzle and Kerrits Equestrian Apparel have graciously partnered with us to sponsor a #DressageForEveryBody2026 giveaway for three lucky readers!   

By Julie A. Ashton

My dressage journey is really at its beginning. I grew up riding, and bombing through the woods on the back of my Morgan mare Duchess was my happy place. That mare would do anything for me – English equitation, jumpers, cross country, harness (she looked lovely hitched to our antique buggy) – except dressage. Oh how she hated the precision flat work that dressage entails.

The 20 years that followed her retirement meant life without horses. It also meant that my body changed. No matter what I ate, or how I exercised, the weight continued to increase. I had a few chances to ride, but they were far and few between because my size was a limiting factor. 

I was never traditionally “skinny,” and as a teenager I was called obese because I was muscular and curvy – I still remember that my senior prom measurements were 40-29-40, and I weighed 165lbs. But at my largest weight, I was double what I weighed at 18, and it affected my view of my ability to ride. 

Then, about five years ago, one of my friends and I started planning our dream vacation – an equestrian tour in Ireland. It was at that point that we realized that neither of us had ridden in a really, really, really long time. So, the lessons began.

We started with general equitation lessons at the only local stable that I could find that had a higher bodyweight limit for riders. I rode a 17-hand Paint/Shire cross named Moose. He was much taller than my 15.2-hand Duchess, and he was much, much slower. I had to re-learn where my center of gravity was, and while I had spent the previous 10 years exercising, riding was a whole different thing. 

One lesson every other week wasn’t enough for me, so I entered into a half lease on the most stubborn, perfectly sized, 16-hand Gypsy/Clyde named Buddy. He had personality for miles, but when he didn’t want to go, we didn’t. Leasing still wasn’t enough for me. I had forgotten how much my heart and soul needed a horse in my life that was mine, and so I broached the topic of horse ownership with my husband.

It was while sitting by a pool in Orlando that the seed took root. My husband said, “No horse until student loans are gone.” When I had checked where they were in regards to potential forgiveness, I found that if I changed my payment program to the 25 years plan, I had fulfilled the requirement for forgiveness. 

That meant my horse search was on! I decided that I wanted a mare, 15 to 16 hands, black, a Morgan or Morgan cross, and who was similarly trained as my Duchess. The problem was my budget, so I was really looking for a project mare with potential.

When I arrived back home from vacation, I was telling the stable owner about my search. She popped on to the site that she uses when looking for horses for her clients, and began scrolling. Miss Minerva’s ad popped up. She was listed as an 18-hand 12-year-old Friesian/Percheron cross. 

The only trait about Miss Minerva that matched my dream mare was that she’s black. The stable owner insisted that I try her out anyway. I was going to try another horse, who was everything I was looking for the following Monday, so I called and made an appointment to try this mare out as well. The first trial ride was an absolute disaster (but that’s a story for another day!). 

It was a snowy February day when I rode Minerva for the first time. This girl had buttons that I didn’t know how to press. She was a mover, responsive to my leg, and had gentle eyes that reminded me of my first love.  I still had another horse to try, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. As fate would have it she would become mine. She was previously known as Mirabella, but I decided that she is the embodiment of Miss Minerva McGonagall, and that’s what she now goes by.

Our first year together was rough. The “easy-to-load” mare took an hour to get onto the trailer. If she decided she didn’t want to go someplace, she would walk over me. In conversations with a previous owner, I learned she has a history of bolting, and is not in fact Friesian at all; she is a registered Percheron, from Canada. I also learned that while yes, someone had put a lot of time into training her, I was owner #7, and she had never had a human to call her own. On top of that, in the five years leading up to purchasing Miss Minerva, I had lost 70-ish pounds, and was scheduled for a panniculectomy. 

During my panniculectomy, eight pounds of excess apron skin was removed. This was a complete life changer for me. One of my most embarrassing, personal moments was getting the excess skin caught on the saddle as I dismounted. My gut hit the pommel when I was in two-point, and I was not able to lift my leg as high as it could go because my body got in the way. I was fit and flexible, but the world couldn’t see it because of all the extra weight I carried. 

Recovery from surgery meant eight weeks of no riding, and only being allowed to brush Minerva for 15 minutes per day. When I was finally allowed to ride again, I had to relearn where my center of gravity is, and the difference in how my body moves. 

We did our first show just 12 weeks after my surgery. Our first show was with the North East Friesian Horse Club (NEFHC), in New Hampshire. We entered the  Green Horse Walk-Trot English Pleasure. It was a success in that I didn’t fall off and she didn’t bolt off with me. Boy, did we need some work though. 

Fast forward a few months, and Minerva and I parted ways while working on cantering. This resulted in five broken ribs and a collapsed lung. She had managed to rock my confidence in a way no other horse had. 

It was during that recovery that I could really see how years of fitness training were working in my favor. I was able to move better than most with the same injury because I had spent my adulthood as a “fit person in a fat suit.” 

We subsequently discovered that Minerva had equine protozoal myeloencephalitis (EPM)  As both she and I recovered, I set a new goal for us: we were going to the 2026 NEFHC, and this time I was going to start learning dressage for my mare. 

This was a huge step for me. Dressage riders always look slim, and none of them seem to be absurdly well-endowed, to me at least. I knew that it would be just me in the ring – one single horse-and-rider pair with every eye on us. The “what ifs” began circling in my head, but I decided to take a leap of faith anyway. 

It started out with only wanting to do Introductory Test A, but as we got closer to the show date we added Intro Test B, and I am glad I did! That is when I think we really started to become a team. Miss Minerva is entirely too smart (she quickly figured out that X is where we stop!), and working on the patterns helps keep her thinking, instead of anticipating or bored. 

On show day, Minerva was super amped up and felt like she was going to take off at any moment. Before the first test of the day was due to start, I walked her around the outside of the ring, and it was lucky that I did. The judge reminded me that I was not allowed to talk to her in the ring, which is a serious issue for me, because I talk constantly to my horse. 

As we prepared to enter the ring, I took a deep breath and repeated the reminders, “You are smart, you are loved, you are beautiful,” to Miss Minerva (secretly they were more for me than for her!), and we headed down centerline. 

Intro A was not that great – it was super windy, she was in heat and kept calling to the stallions who called back, and I was anxious as could be. Earlier, she had shied at the flowers at A, and I didn’t start trotting far enough out before entering the ring. The test was being called for me, but all of my insecurities were bubbling to the surface, and not just about my ability to ride. The judge’s comment was, “Rider needs to organize and relax to help her horse be confident.” She was right, and we scored 63%.

Our second ride, Intro Test B, was so much better! I had to wait because the wind kept knocking over the rails, so volunteers (my friends who came to watch) stood with their feet on the posts to keep them upright. We started trotting earlier, and I took a deep breath before entering. We were a team, and working as such. I was so proud of her. 

I was even more proud later on, when my instructor came flying into the barn with my blue ribbon and Miss Minerva’s medal! We earned a 69%! For the first time, I could really feel and picture our future. The photos the show photographer took reinforced that feeling. For the first time in a long time, I looked at the photos and didn’t see all my physical flaws, instead I saw a team. I saw a rider and her partner who started out as lost individuals, found each other, and have been forging a bond of trust and respect ever since.

What are my plans for our future? We are moving to a new barn that has a different focus than our current one, and our next goal is to master cantering. I didn’t realize how much residual trauma I have, and I think part of it is connected to the ring. 

I have been learning to trust that Minerva will take care of me, while at the same time, she is learning I’ll take care of her. Once we have done that, Intro Test C is the next test for us to conquer. 

I have already paid for our 2027 NEFHC stall, so we have until June to figure out cantering.  We are also going to start working on riding side saddle! If all goes well, maybe dressage while riding aside? 

Apparently Miss Minerva also jumps, so I am going to throw in a few of those just for fun. I am learning, and reinforcing, that I don’t have to wait for the “my body needs to be…X” to do the things that I love. Hopefully, the future allows us to go to more than one show a year, but if it remains only one, we are going to take it by storm.