Reflections on Leadership Lessons from the Saddle
By Vicki Mayo, CEO & Founder, TouchPoint Solution
Welcome to Bridle & Boardroom, a monthly reflection where the lessons learned in the arena mirror the challenges of leadership. I’m an adult amateur dressage rider, and the CEO and Founder of TouchPoint Solution, a company that creates wearable devices clinically proven to reduce stress and anxiety in seconds. Through horses and leadership alike, I’ve learned that balance, trust, and connection are at the heart of true success – in the saddle, in the boardroom, and everywhere in between.
Sometimes, the lessons we learn at the barn have nothing to do with what happens in the saddle. If we pay attention, the people around our horses can teach us just as much as the horses themselves.
A few years ago, my trainer, Kim Yacobucci, casually mentioned that Cathy, her longtime groom and barn manager, would be leaving. I was shocked. Cathy had been with Kim for nearly 20 years. In my mind, Kim and Cathy simply went together. I almost couldn’t imagine the barn without her.
Cathy was also part of my own history with horses; I rode as a young rider and then stepped away from the sport for nearly 15 years, before finding my way back six years ago. One of the things that made returning to Kim’s barn feel so comfortable was that Cathy was still there. She remembered the younger version of me, but she also welcomed the very different adult amateur rider who came back years later.
When Kim told me Cathy was leaving, I didn’t say much. But about a week later, Kim and I happened to be walking our horses together, and I finally asked the question that had been bothering me. “Kim, I don’t understand. How are you so calm about Cathy leaving?”
I knew what I would have been thinking: How am I going to replace someone who has been beside me for 20 years? Who knows everything? How will I possibly manage without this person who has become part of the backbone of the operation?
Kim just smiled.
She told me that she had lived enough life to understand that everyone has their own journey. Cathy leaving was an opportunity for Cathy to grow, but it was also an opportunity for the barn to grow. She trusted that Cathy would find what was next for her, and that the right people would come along to meet the barn’s needs as it entered its next chapter. What struck me most was that Kim wasn’t approaching the change from a place of loss, she was approaching it from a place of expansion. And ultimately, she was right.
Everyone pitched in during the transition. Processes were documented, responsibilities were reassessed, and rather than simply replacing Cathy with another Cathy, the barn evolved. What had been one role eventually became two, with a new groom and a separate barn manager. Life at the barn continued, just a little differently. I remember thinking at the time that there was a leadership lesson in what I had witnessed.
I just didn’t realize how much I would need it myself.
A few weeks ago, my executive assistant of four years told me she wanted to leave her role. She had reached a point where she knew she was capable of more and, quite frankly, hated the EA work. She wanted to figure out what was next for her. My immediate reaction was panic. She wasn’t simply someone who managed my calendar and emails. She knew our entire family;she helped with the kids, ran errands when life became chaotic, came to the barn to videotape rides, and was even there when I purchased Talladega. Over four years, she had become deeply woven into both my professional and personal life.
All of those questions I had imagined Kim asking years earlier suddenly became mine. How am I going to replace her? Who will know everything she knows? How am I going to manage all of this without her? And then, almost immediately, I heard Kim’s words in my head. Keep an attitude of expansion.
Instead of thinking only about what I was losing, I began trying to think about what might be opening up. My assistant deserves the opportunity to discover work that challenges and fulfills her. I don’t want someone I care about spending her days doing something she has come to hate simply because her staying makes my life easier. And perhaps her leaving is also an invitation for me to reconsider what I actually need now. Just as Kim discovered that one longtime position had evolved into two very different roles, perhaps I don’t need to replace what already existed. Perhaps I need to build what comes next.
I don’t know the answer yet.
That’s what makes this lesson different from most of the ones I write about. Usually, by the time I sit down to write Bridle & Boardroom, I’ve made it to the other side. I know how the story ends and can neatly package the lesson I learned along the way. This time, I’m still living it. I’m in that uncomfortable space between what was and what will be. Part of me still wants to cling tightly to what I know. But I’m trying to remember something horses have taught me over and over again: when we become tense or afraid, our instinct is often to hold tighter. And holding tighter rarely creates the outcome we want.
Sometimes we have to soften, trust, and make room for what comes next.
In the saddle, we call it giving. In business, maybe we call it growth.
And in life, perhaps it is simply having an attitude of expansion.
This month, I don’t know exactly what is coming next. I’m just learning to leave enough room for it to arrive.
About the Author
Vicki Mayo is the CEO and Founder of TouchPoint Solution, a serial entrepreneur, author, and adult amateur dressage rider based in Scottsdale, Arizona. Her professional journey has spanned founding and leading multiple companies, while her personal journey has brought her back to the saddle after a two-decade hiatus. Today, she blends lessons learned in the arena with leadership insights from the boardroom, sharing her belief that trust, resilience, and connection are at the heart of true success – in business, in riding, and in life.
