By Meghan Riegler
I was born a horse girl, in fact, I loved horses before I had ever even met one.
Although I didn’t have the privilege of riding until I became an adult, somehow horses had always been a part of who I was. As a little girl, I told my mom that I wanted to be a horse when I grew up. Looking back, I think that probably says everything you need to know about me.
When I finally got the chance to start riding, I was so excited. But learning didn’t come as naturally or as quickly as I sometimes wished it would. I wasn’t one of those fearless little kids who could fall off and simply get back on, with no concept that horses could actually be scary, or that riding could be inherently dangerous. I was an adult, and I had enough life experience to know to be afraid of falling, of getting hurt, of making mistakes, and sometimes even of doing something wrong.
So, my journey and progress were slow.
As the years passed, I moved, changed barns, took lessons, leased horses, learned from different trainers, and experienced all of the ups and downs that come with trying to make horses a part of your life. There were times when life got in the way, and I had to take breaks from riding altogether. Those breaks were always harder than I expected them to be.
Even when I couldn’t ride, horses never stopped tugging at my heart. Sometimes I wouldn’t see a horse for weeks or months, but I never stopped thinking about them. I would still watch videos, look at pictures, follow horse accounts on social media, and daydream about the day I could get back to the barn.
For me, horses have never really just been about riding; they have been my therapy.
There is something about stepping into a barn and suddenly feeling the rest of the world get quieter. I am able to disconnect from the constant notifications, technology, responsibilities, stress, and pressure that seem to follow me everywhere else. Time feels different at the barn. I can spend hours there, completely losing track of how long I’ve been gone.
And somehow, around horses, I get to be that little girl again.
The little girl who thought she might grow up to be a horse. The girl who dreamed about having a horse of her own without knowing when, where, or if that dream would ever actually happen.
After more than nine years of lessons, I finally reached a point where I felt ready to find my own partner. I searched for months, letting faith lead me to the right match. Then, while working in Florida for a week, I met Koda. I didn’t expect that kismet partner to be a two-and-a-half-year-old unraced Thoroughbred.
Upon meeting Koda at Hope After Racing Thoroughbreds (HART), something about him just felt right. He was young, inexperienced, and certainly not the obvious choice for someone looking for their first horse of their own. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I made multiple visits to HART, confirming what my heart had known immediately: he was my horse. I scheduled a pre-purchase exam (PPE), which came back without any issues, and after checking with my gut one more time – and verifying I wasn’t, in fact, insane – I adopted him.
A week later, Koda came home to Alabama. Now we have a whole lot of learning to do.
He has things to learn about being a horse, and I have things to learn about being his person. We are both figuring the other out. There will be mistakes, awkward moments, challenges, and probably plenty of times when I wonder what in the world I got myself into. But there will also be so many firsts. Our first rides together, first adventures, and our first show, someday. I will get to experience the first time he learns something new and realizes he can do it. Then will come the first time I look back and realize just how far we’ve come.
I know there is no such thing as the “perfect horse” (although, in my eyes, Koda is pretty close) and no perfect journey. I also know that owning a young Thoroughbred is going to require patience, consistency, and a lot of trust from both of us. But, I think that is part of what makes this journey so special.
I didn’t get my horse when I was a little girl. I didn’t get to grow up at the barn or spend my childhood competing. My journey started much later than I would have liked, and it has taken me years to finally get here.
And somehow, after all those years of lessons, leases, different barns, breaks, setbacks, and dreaming, I finally have a horse that is mine.
My kid self never stopped dreaming about this; she just had to wait a little longer.
Here’s to Koda, to all the things we have to learn, and to the little girl who always knew she was meant to be a horse girl. And to Koda: thank you for being exactly what my soul desperately needed. 🐴❤️
