"Unspoken Words: What I Wanted to Tell You, Mum"

About the girl

Riding bareback, pigtails flying, slim fit legs wrapped around the borrowed ponies’ girth

Fearless

No aerodynamic boob drag

Devoid of puberty hormones, spots and troubles

A wild lithe spirit travelling restlessly

Inhaling greedy gulps of fresh air and daily adventures

Forging interspecies joinings - of predator and foe

And for some, but not I, the step up for the growing in confidence girl, to a performance horse. One deliberately bred for strength, speed, power, agility – that can hold its own among champions galloping at 35 kilometres an hour.

For some, like I, the first pony step is never “owned”. For those “wildish” girls and boys there are only fleeting frames of freedom soon crushed by the drudgery of everyday claustrophobic suburban, city life. The inevitable restraints, compromises and disappointments.

The inevitability of well trodden paths to adulthood.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

That when I was 55 I finally bought a handsome 3 year old green broke WB/TB performance horse. A 16 hand gelding with a glorious gleaming chestnut coat and a striking strawberry blond mane and tail. A spellbindingly beautiful creature.

For the price of a small car. 

Not to mention the outgoings whether I drive (should I say ride) him or not.

My friends said: “But you have never owned a horse.  You are a 55 year old woman, living in the burbs who birthed 3 children in 2 years – if you’re not worried about safety at least think of your pelvic floor – that’s if you still have one.” I smile inside thinking of the 10 years of personal training to get back my core and pelvic floor.

My young adult children say; “You’re a mum.” As if this automatically disqualifies me.

My husband and life partner who 30 years ago rode to Darwin with me, BC (before children) on our BMW Road bikes says: ”if that’s what you want to do, go ahead”. No doubt secretly hoping I would not.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

That I had to buy that horse.  Before it was too late. Before common sense stole my last chance to again become that courageous wild 15 year old teenager. Who galloped across the Kosciusko High country with the brumby herd astride a sturdy quarter horse mare. Feeling the salty wetness of her steaming flanks, the powerful rhythmic thud of her four hooves reverberating, shaking my insides and sharing her thrill of the chase. 

Before life’s drudgery shrivelled up my soul. For good.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

That he can run like the wind.  He can gallop up to the end of his paddock and come to an electrifying halt before crashing into the fence.  That one day he even jumped out of his paddock for the thrill of galloping down the gravel road picking up momentum as he stretched out, lowering his head and torso to gain even more speed.

Like the Caulfield racehorses you used to ride when you to were a wildish girl.

I have been meaning to tell you mum 

That Rad was totally unsuitable for me, only Green broke with a few kilometres on the speedo. Had barely been ridden. Thus beginning our 11 year adventure, many setbacks; some broken bones and torn tendons.

I have meaning to tell you mum 

That I forgive you and dad for not buying your 10 year old daughter her very own pony when that was what she needed in her life more than anything else in the world.  I understand that it was not possible, feasible, sensible.

That I am grateful for the weekly horse riding lessons you drove me to at Hillside for a year and the one week Kosciusko adventure. Those experiences sustaining me to young adulthood.

And your encouragement as I rode my 360 Honda, alone, aged 21  wobbling out of the end of our street for my 6 week Perth odyssey. 

You told me “that if I was your age again I’d do the same”. Your greatest gift of love to me.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

That I understand that you fought to give me just enough of a taste for who I could become that when my life depended on it, when it was almost too late, I reached into my dusty past self to reclaim that fearless wildish girl who rode like the wind across wombat infested plains.

That you understand your true self can be different to the person you inhabit in your everyday life. And as you age there can become a restlessness, urgency to reclaim your wildishness (wolfishness). If you don’t push your urgent feelings down with an alcohol sedative.

I have been meaning to tell you mum 

That your granddaughter is a mother herself now - of twin girls. That she has a wonderful partner and life.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

That last year I bought my first fully trained dressage horse Finnigan, a handsome black glossy horse with a kind but cheeky temperament.

And now I share my horses and my property with people who want, need, to be close to a horse if only for a day. To re-discover their wildish self.

I have been meaning to tell you mum

How much I miss you and want to share my wildish self with you.

The Equine (EQ) Link

Equine Experiential Education programs can significantly assist people to tap into their professional development and leaderwork capabilities by guiding them in how to draw on their unique strengths and attributes. Equine assisted Team building and Leadership exercises can enhance this work.

Dr Deborah Hann

5 March 2024.