June 3, 2025 
The barn was always my sanctuary, my space to breathe. Horses were supposed to equate to my happiness. But so often, that peace was overshadowed by stable drama or discontent. So often, I felt disheartened.
When I was unhappy at the barn, I questioned everything: Why do I do this? Is it worth the time, money, energy—just to feel miserable? Am I the crazy one? Maybe you can relate…
Because even on our best days, this industry can wear you down. Fancier horses, pricey shows, subtle (and not-so-subtle) judgment, pressure to improve, lameness roulette, and endless costs. It’s a lot.
So, when things at the barn are unstable as well, it can all feel like too much. I know it’s not just me.
I’ve seen riders burnout on social media, saying goodbye to horses altogether. I’ve listened to friends question whether to sell their mounts, move barns, or switch trainers—struggling to validate the feelings they already know are true.
They stay stuck in places that make them happy-ish, but also drain them. It’s like they’re waiting for someone to give them permission to choose better. Or for a catalyst that is so dramatic that switching barns is the only way out.
But here’s the truth: you don’t need permission to move barns or change trainers. You are not a powerless ammie. You are not a victim of the industry. You don’t have to wait until you just can’t take it anymore. You have options.
And ammies know more than we give ourselves credit for.
We know when we’re happy. We know when our horses are thriving and healthy. And deep down, we know when a situation is fixable, or when it’s time to walk away. We just need to trust ourselves enough to act.
For me, that meant buying my own farm. It sounds like a dream—and it is—but more than anything, it was about autonomy. After a particularly toxic barn experience, I didn’t want that environment to feel normal or acceptable anymore. I wanted a way out. Independence.
Honestly, I was petrified. I’d relied on trainers for so long that I didn’t believe I could manage without them. But I also learned that freedom is worth confronting my fears.
I’m still learning. I still stumble. But now I’ve built strong relationships with my vet and farrier. I ask questions. I make decisions. I’ve learned that mistakes aren’t failures; they’re lessons. And when they’re mine rather than a trainer’s, they carry less regret and more meaning.
Here’s the thing, you don’t have to buy a farm to reclaim your power. You just have to trust your gut and your voice. There are always other options if your barn, horse, or trainer are not the right fit.
If your trainer continually shuts you out of your horse’s care, discourages your questions, or dismisses your instincts when you want to be more involved, you can leave. Even if the training is good. Even if the barn is beautiful. Even if you are at the top of your game.
If the energy in the barn is toxic, or your trainer is belittling, you don’t have to stay. And, honestly, your trainer will probably be relieved if you find a situation that better aligns with your values.
If you’ve been made to believe you can’t think for yourself in this industry, that’s a lie. You absolutely can trust yourself.
So maybe your next move isn’t buying a farm. Maybe it’s switching barns…even if that means riding less, showing less, or driving further. Whatever it is, don’t wait for burnout or a blow up to force your hand. You pour too much of your time, money, and heart into the horses to feel miserable. You have choices.
For me, the freedom to choose who helps me, what clinics I attend, and how I manage my horses has been transformative. Conversations with the vet about maintenance, chats with the feed store about nutrition, debates with the farrier about breakover…it’s time consuming and not always easy. But it’s empowering.
I’m no longer at the mercy of someone else’s decisions. I feel capable instead of resentful. And more knowledgeable as I continue to learn. Because at the end of the day, this life with horses? It’s mine. I get to define joy. I get to protect it, fight for it, and reimagine it. And so do you.
I want you to know you are not helpless, and having more confidence in your horse-related decisions will empower you too. You are not “just” an ammie. You are a badass. You don’t have to stay stuck. You can handle change. You are knowledgeable.
Don’t wait until you’re burned out and broken to realize your power. Choose the barn, the people, the path that lights you up. You deserve that. Your horse deserves that. And your happiness? It’s not a luxury. It’s non-negotiable.
