Why I’m Not Seeking a Riding Partner Right Now – A Personal Reflection

Lately, I’ve been asked a question that seems quite straightforward on the surface: “Why aren’t you looking for a riding partner, now that you can’t ride due to your pregnancy?” And the honest answer is simple – though perhaps not what some might expect: I’m not looking for one, because I don’t feel the need. Nor do my horses.

Here’s the truth: Horses do not need to be ridden. That’s a concept we, as humans, project onto them. Of course, I love the sport of riding – deeply. And yes, I have purchased and bred my horses with riding in mind. But that desire stems from me. It has nothing to do with them. A horse does not dream of dressage scores or yearn for a jump-off. A horse requires open space, fresh air, companionship, forage and water. That’s it. Anything beyond that is luxury – a human luxury, not theirs.

I often hear, “But a horse needs activity!” And that’s certainly true. But activity is not synonymous with sport. A horse that lives in a herd, that moves daily, that engages socially, is already occupied in the most natural and healthy way. My horses receive regular, gentle work – they are occasionally longed, they enjoy free jumping, groundwork, and sometimes a few well-deserved days of rest. Some are ridden lightly by trusted young women at the yard – not as part of a structured training regime, but because it happens to suit us all. They’re not in peak condition for competition right now – but they are thriving as horses. And that, to me, is far more important.

There’s a widespread misconception that horses must be constantly challenged, constantly developed, constantly improving. But that’s our ambition, not theirs. We’ve bred many of today’s horses to be brilliant athletes – but they did not ask for that destiny. Just because a horse has the potential to perform at S level does not mean it must. It doesn’t pine away in quiet misery if it only hacks out once in a while, or doesn’t enter the competition arena. That notion of “wasted potential” is a purely human invention. A horse does not grieve for a future it doesn’t know it was bred for.

That’s why I don’t seek out a riding partner simply for the sake of “keeping them in work.” Riding for its own sake, without need or purpose, serves only human ego. My horses are not unfulfilled simply because no one tacks them up. They are not lesser for living a quiet, balanced, present life. They are fed. They are free. They are content.

And let’s be honest: riding is an inherently selfish act. That’s not an accusation – just a truth we’d do well to recognise. It’s something we do because we love it, we benefit from it. So long as we treat our horses well, respect their nature, and meet their essential needs, I believe we can ride with a clear conscience. But the moment we convince ourselves that they require it – that we are somehow doing them a favour by schooling them endlessly or pushing them harder – we’re deluding ourselves.

What I miss is riding. What they miss is nothing. And that’s perfectly fine.